


Written in the Scars

by lalagirl16



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Bisexuality, Enemies to Lovers, Everyone is suffering, Internalized Homophobia, It's a soulmate au, M/M, Pining, References to Abuse, Rich is trying his best, bc im garbage, does this count as enemies to lovers?, fuck it, jeremy is in pain, more canon compliant than you think, pre-squip jeremy, presenting the most fucking underrated ship in this fandom, rich has issues tm, slow burn ;), so much goddamn drama this should air on the cw, spicy bis - Freeform, the great gatsby can be applied to anything i guess, the one where you write something on your skin and it shows up on your soulmate in the same place, this is bi culture, tw: suicide attempt, yeah that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-04-06 23:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 44,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14067816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalagirl16/pseuds/lalagirl16
Summary: Soulmate AU. Rich's life has been perfect ever since he got his SQUIP. If only his soulmate would stop making him remember what it's like to be a loser. And why does he feel so bad about hurting that freak Jeremy Heere?





	1. Rich

_Do you know what it’s like to be invisible?_

That was the question written on his arm. Rich blinked away the remaining dreariness and sat up to switch on the light. He looked down again to check that he wasn’t hallucinating. The neat cursive stayed, clear as day, on his muscular forearm. This was pretty out of character for his soulmate. They never contacted him first. And recently, the two of them hadn’t been corresponding at all.

The SQUIP didn’t like him talking to his soulmate, for whatever reason. It would always say soulmates didn’t matter, not really, not when you can be sleeping with a different sexy senior girl at every single party you attend. Rich guessed it had a point there. Less than half the people in the world ended up with their soulmate, and even if you found them, it didn’t guarantee happiness. His parents were soulmates and that didn’t keep his mom from leaving. It was probably a sign that Rich should just ignore his soulmate forever, no matter how much he loved writing to them.

_Sorry, that was dumb._

Shit, he should respond. He reached over onto his nightstand for a pen. When he looked down at his arms, the green words were smudged and slowly fading. His soulmate was clearly having second thoughts about the whole conversation. It made Rich wonder if his soulmate had ever tried to reach out to him, and then erased the message before he could ever see it. He hoped not. As much as the SQUIP discouraged it, Rich loved talking to his soulmate.

 _It’s not dumb,_ he wrote near his elbow. _Is that how you feel?_ There was no response for several minutes. With a sigh, Rich rolled out of bed and got dressed, still thinking about the girl on the other end of the pen. If they were a girl. He’d never asked.

 **“Of course your soulmate is a girl,”** the SQUIP cut in. **“You are not gay, Richard.”**

“I thought you couldn’t predict who my soulmate was,” Rich mumbled under his breath. The SQUIP rolled its eyes.

 **“I told you not to worry about your soulmate. Now get dressed. Wear the blue tank today, and bring a condom.”** Rich did as he was instructed. For the most part. He couldn’t stop worrying about his soulmate, even if he tried. As he got dressed, he checked his arm obsessively. Rich kept replaying the question in his mind. Did he know what it was like to be invisible? He snorted. Sure. Only for the first 15 years of his life. He nearly shuddered thinking about how he used to be - awkward and nerdy, only seen while embarrassing himself. Or lisping. Rich shook his head to clear it. He wasn’t that scared little kid anymore. He wasn’t.

He’d had sex. Multiple times. Girls who hadn’t had him wanted him. He was best friends with Jake Dillinger, who was one of the coolest kids in school. The SQUIP had helped him take care of himself in every aspect. He was so much better off now that he didn’t even want to think about his former life as a loser. Instead he switched gears to imagine a soulmate that didn’t remind him of his former self.

He’d love to have a soulmate who was curved in the right places, with full lips and an impressive rack. Maybe she would work out. He remembered the captain of the lacrosse team had some killer abs. Yes, this was much better than thinking about pathetic old Richard Goranski. As Rich looked over his shoulder to grab his backpack, he saw more words under his message, now in thick black ink. Rich was snapped out of his fantasy, suddenly feeling as though he was choking. _Is that how you feel?_ Rich had asked.

 _Every fucking day,_ was the reply. _I wish I could just be someone else sometimes._

Rich ran to the bathroom and tried to scrub off the message, but he could barely smudge it. Permanent marker. He wanted to cry, so he punched the wall instead.

 

…

 

Rich walked down the empty hall of Middle Borough high like he owned the place, not caring at all the he was about twenty minutes late for first period. Mr. Fisher loved him, and never marked him tardy, no matter how late he was. And it wasn’t like he was going to miss anything - he had the SQUIP to keep his grades right where they needed to be: high enough for the teachers to like him and get him into college, but not so high that he was a nerd. God, his life rocked.

“Yo, Rich!”

It was Jake. He was lollygagging in the halls too, a benefit of being almost universally adored that they both enjoyed. Except Jake was able to charm the pants (sometimes literally) off of everyone just by being himself. Jake was so naturally cool, he’d never need a SQUIP just to tolerate himself. Rich kind of hated him for that. He greeted his best friend with a fist bump.

“What’s up?” Rich asked.

“What’s up with you?” Jake shot back, grabbing Rich’s arm. He must have seen the writing on there. Rich guessed it was a hazard of wearing tank tops all the time. “I wish I could just be someone else,” Jake read aloud. Rich swallowed.

“I didn’t write it,” he said quickly. “My soulmate did.”

“Duh,” Jake said, dropping Rich’s arm. “Why would you want to be anyone else? You’re the coolest, bro. Never change.” It should have been a compliment, but the unspoken truth stung in the back of Rich’s throat. He already had changed. And Jake liked him better this way, just like everybody else did.

“I didn’t really know how to respond to it,” Rich said, rubbing his arm absentmindedly. “It’s hard to comfort girls sometimes.”

“Too bad you can’t just fuck her until she feels better,” Jake said. God, Rich hoped he was joking. “And hey, at least your soulmate writes to you.” Jake’s soulmate never did. Apparently, after years of waiting, one day in middle school, Jake had decided to break the ice by writing _Hey, I’m Jake. What beautiful girl do I have the pleasure of writing to today?_ That was years ago, and Jake had never seen anything appear on his arm, save for a few doodles and things like _buy milk for mom_ and _math test tomorrow_. Because of this, Jake didn’t really like talking about soulmates. He just wasn’t used to being ignored.

“You heading to class?” Rich asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Jake sighed, running a hand through his perfect hair. “Already at school, so I figure, might as well.”

Rich waved goodbye to Jake and started down the hall, now self-conscious about the writing on his arm. Sure, he hadn’t been the one to write it, but it still made him feel exposed for the fraud that he was. Stupid fucking permanent marker. Stupid tank. He couldn’t get through the day like this.

**“Dustin Kropp is behind the school right now. You won’t miss much today if you skip, and securing that friendship with him will be… beneficial in the future.”**

Smoking sounded fucking amazing. This certainly wasn’t the first time he’d played hooky, and it wouldn’t be the last. Everything was just too much, too loud. He had to get high. It was the only way for him to stop thinking about the mark on his arm. Richard Goranski had no room for insecurity, even if he hadn’t written what was on his arm. Plus, the SQUIP had never led him astray before. He could practically taste the sweet smell of weed as he headed out the back door to where Dustin was. Lighting something on fire sounded therapeutic as shit.


	2. Jeremy

“How do you get sharpie off of your skin?” Jeremy whined. “I tried scrubbing at it for 10 minutes in the bathroom.” The thick black sharpie had barely faded. It sat there on his freckled skin, mocking him. Reminding him that he was pathetic and his soulmate didn’t give a shit. Thank god his words were hidden under his cardigan.

“It’s called google, dumbass,” Michael said. “I wouldn’t know how to get sharpie off, because I’ve never been stupid enough to write on myself in sharpie.” Jeremy went quiet and kicked a stray water bottle across the hall. Michael was right. It was pretty stupid. He had been using a pen, but he’d somehow lost it in the hurry of getting dressed and grabbed the first thing he saw without a thought. Who keeps a sharpie near their bed anyway? He really was kinda stupid. Michael seemed to notice Jeremy’s lack of enthusiasm at the joke. 

“I just said something dumb,” Jeremy explained before Michael could ask. “To my soulmate. I guess that’s another mistake you’ll never be stupid enough to make.” 

“What’d you say?” Michael asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he said. “Or let you see it. I don’t want to let anyone see it. My soulmate didn’t even respond, so I know it was stupid. Sh-they probably hate me now.”

“Believe me, whatever you wrote, there are worse things you could write,” came Michael’s dry reply. “And if they do hate you, so what? Who gives a shit about soulmates, anyway?” Certainly not Michael. He disregarded the whole concept of soulmates with the casual indifference of someone not caring for mustard. 

Even though he’d known Michael for over 10 years, that was something he would never understand about his best friend. Michael liked to take life as it came to him. He always figured if the soulmate thing was meant to be, it’d just happen, content to live his life and crush on whoever he pleased. The thing was, he wasn’t opposed at all to soulmates for most of his life. Things changed when his soulmate wrote something asinine one day, and since then, Michael had remained apathetic. However the more the topic was brought up, the more he continued to develop a sort of disdain in his tone. 

But to Jeremy, his soulmate was special, because they seemed to be the one person who would ever pay attention to him, save for Michael. Even if it was out of obligation, his soulmate always held a little piece of Jeremy in their heart. Plus, his soulmate probably imagined a wonderful, idealized version of him, and since they’d never exchanged names or talked about meeting, that would probably be how his soulmate thought about him forever. Sure, there were a  _ few _ times where his thoughts would turn selfish. He’d want to meet his soulmate, and for them to love him, just as he was, even though he was terrible. Yeah, right.

“I don’t want them to hate me,” Jeremy confessed offhandedly. “And I don’t want to keep being reminded about what I said.” Michael sighed and grabbed Jeremy’s hands reassuringly. 

“Let’s get some 7/11 for lunch, okay? And after school, you can come over and use some nail polish remover on your arm for the sharpie.” He always knew what to say. Jeremy was grateful that he didn’t pry- he’d been having one of those mornings and had written down an invasive thought before he could stop himself. Thus, ruining the idealized version of him that his soulmate previously had… Michael was right. Jeremy really needed a slushie.

“Don’t worry about the soulmate thing, man,” Michael said, walking toward the school doors so they could head out to his car. “You probably just came on a little strong, but don’t worry about it. Just try to get to know them better. Conversation starters. Google is wonderful thing.”

 

…

 

The nail polish remover had worked. A little too well for Jeremy’s liking, because now he was sitting on his bed, pen in hand, staring down at the blank slate that was his arm, trying to think. Conversation starters… conversation starters… 

_ So did you know humanity has stopped evolving? _

As soon as he finished the question mark, Jeremy fell back on his bed and buried his face in his pillow. Was this the soulmate equivalent of double-texting? He couldn’t even look at his arm for several minutes. But the anticipation was also killing him. After some time, he slowly lifted his face from the pillow and checked his arm.

_ Wtf what does that even mean? _

Jeremy released a breath in relief that his soulmate wasn’t ignoring him, but was graciously ignoring what he had said that morning. 

_ I’m not sure. My friend was just yapping about it today, so _

Jeremy wasn’t sure that he could do this. Sure, this person may have been “made for him” or whatever, but that didn’t make his lack of social skills completely disappear. Icebreakers… he needed an icebreaker. 

_ What’s your favorite color _ he wrote, hoping his soulmate wouldn’t judge him for the complete 180 in topic. 

_ Red _ came the response. Followed by an incredulous  _ why??? _

_ Just curious _ Jeremy wrote.  _ Why’s that your favorite? _

_ Who cares, they're all just fucking wavelengths.  _ Ok, then. Maybe his soulmate was doing something important and didn’t have time for small talk. Or maybe they hated Jeremy’s guts. Yeah, that sounded right.

_ But I guess because it’s the color of lust ;) _ appeared a second later. Man, would his soulmate have loved to see Jeremy right then because his whole face went bright red in an instant. It was embarrassing how easy Jeremy had gotten flustered. That wasn’t even technically flirting. Jeremy started to write a response, when his pen grazed over a fresh bruise and he winced. He moved down to his leg, writing  _ left leg _ to the side of the bruise. 

_ My favorite color’s blue, I think _ he wrote. His soulmate took longer to respond. For a second, Jeremy thought they had gotten bored or not seen his message telling them to move down to continue the conversation. But then words appeared next to his.

_ There was still room. Why’d you move down?  _

_ Gotta bruise. _

_ Gross. How’d you get it? Fight?  _ Jeremy dropped the pen and rolled down his pant leg to cover the writing. The memory came back in an instant. 

A nearly empty hallway. A harsh laugh and a terrifying yell. Then a fist. Red red red his hair had a splash of red his nose was red the red was dripping the cold metal on the walls was red. 

His soulmate liked red. His soulmate wouldn’t understand. 

_ Just clumsy  _ he wrote. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters??? in one day??? don't expect this kind of work ethic from me in the future is all I'll say.
> 
> i kind of have a plot outlined for this fic, but I'm also willing to go with the flow so this'll be interesting. Thanks for reading my garbage lol.


	3. Rich

Rich wasn’t listening to the conversation, not really, but that didn’t stop Chloe from getting on his last fucking nerve. Why was everyone talking about soulmates nowadays? Couldn’t they just talk about the newest movies and school gossip like the popular kids usually did? And by popular kids, he meant his  _ fellow _ popular kids. His friends. That he absolutely fit in with. 

“-and you can cry me a fucking river, Jake,” Chloe was saying. “I’ve never written to my soulmate, so it can’t be too uncommon. It’s nothing against them, I just don’t want to tie myself down. Think of it like… playing hard to get.”

“But Chlo, it doesn’t work like that,” Brooke butted in quietly. “Your soulmate probably thinks you’re dead or illiterate. Or from a foreign country.”

“Good. Guys dig exotic chicks,” Chloe said. Jake gave a little whoop at that.

“You guys see the new transfer student?” Jake added, thankfully turning the conversation away from soulmates. “I hear she’s French. I saw her in the commons today, and I’m totally gonna hit that, just you wait.” He probably would. Jake could do anything. 

“Do you think Chloe’s your soulmate?” Jenna Rolan asked. Rich didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there. None of them had invited her; she was likely just there to get some gossip from the cool kids' table.

**“How pitiful,”** the SQUIP remarked. 

“She’s not,” Jake said. “I checked last time we slept together. Brought a pen and marked her in more than one way, if you know what I mean.” Jake winced as Chloe stepped on his foot under the table with her 5-inch heels. 

“What about you, Rich?” Brooke asked, suddenly feeling the need to include him in the conversation. 

“We don’t talk a lot,” he said, hoping to just leave it at that. The SQUIP never let him talk too much about his feelings. Feelings made him seem vulnerable. And he especially didn’t want to think about his soulmate.  _ Soulmates don’t matter, Richard. They don’t matter. _

“Whoever she is, she was being fucking depressing yesterday,” Jake added unhelpfully. “How’d that work out for you, by the way, buddy? You ever write her back?” Rich shot his friend a poorly-disguised glare. Why would Jake just go and tell everyone about that? Did he want them thinking that Rich had lovey-dovey comfort chats with his soulmate every night?

“‘Course not,” he grunted out. “I’m not an emotional guy. What you think I’m gonna spend my time being sappy and shit with her just because she’s sad? Then I’d be no cooler than those fucking homos.” He pointed over to a table across the cafeteria where Jeremy Heere and his boyfriend (probably) were sitting, playing some sort of joint DS game. Losers. Rich barely noticed how quiet his own table went. 

“Don’t be an asshole, Rich,” Brooke said with a small sneer. “You guys don’t have to pretend to be so allergic to emotion all the time.”

“Yeah,” said Chloe. “And I like gay people. What, would I be a loser if I slept with a girl for fun?” Rich didn’t know what to say to that. Chloe scared the shit out of him.

**“That’s different. When girls do it, it’s fucking hot.”**

“That’s different. When girls do it, it’s fucking hot,” Rich said with an air of confidence. He felt like the scum of the earth sometimes, repeating some of the horrible lines the SQUIP fed him. It always reassured him that he would eventually stop feeling so terrible about things like that, because eventually, he'd believe those things. If that’s what it took for people to like him then… 

“Classic Rich,” said Jenna before leaving the table. Rich guessed she had enough popular kid news to keep her audience satisfied with gossip for the rest of the day. Brooke and Chloe started a side conversation he didn’t bother listening in on. Chloe gave him the stink eye several times. Jake was eerily silent for the rest of lunch.

 

...

  
  


Rich focused on the  _ squeak squeak squeaks _ of his shoes on the cement floor as he made his way to the bathroom to have a cigarette. And maybe take a piss while he was at it. The longer he stayed out of English class, the better. It was a subject he used to enjoy immensely but since the SQUIP… he wasn’t allowed to speak up in class (not that he’d been confident enough to do it before) unless he was making a joke. He had to bomb a test or two to maintain his cool kid status. He missed diving into literature. He wasn’t even allowed to read the books anymore.  **You have me,** the SQUIP would always insist.  **Why waste your time reading when you could be out having sex or developing friendships with your fellow cool kids?**

_ The Great Gatsby  _ sounded intriguing. The ever-present dilemma in life of wishing to turn back time and undo past mistakes when such a thing is impossible. Gatsby’s inability to accurately mimic the elite he wishes he was born into. James Gatz vs. Jay Gatsby. Where did the persona end and the person begin?

Rich pushed the door and his thoughts behind him. Only one stall seemed to be occupied and no one was at the urinals. All he had to do was wait for the one guy to finish up, to make sure it wasn’t some goody-goody who would report him to the administration for smoking on campus. Then he’d barricade the door and get some well-deserved time to relax. He ran a finger over the smooth surface of the lighter in his pocket in anticipation. 

The stall opened.  _ Shit.  _ A very familiar lanky boy in a soft thin blue cardigan stumbled out, freezing as soon as he saw Rich standing there. Jeremy Heere. 

“Aw, look who it is,” Rich cooed mockingly. “It’s Jeremy Queer.” Bullying Jeremy was practically reflex at that point. Or maybe it just came naturally because deep down, he knew that resistance was futile. On more than one incident, he’d hesitated to hurt Jeremy, physically or emotionally, and the SQUIP had taken over his body and done something even worse than what he was originally instructed to do. It was easier to just do what he was told. 

Sure, he knew deep down that Jeremy didn’t deserve any of the shit Rich put him through. But there was nothing he could do about it. 

“I-I-I-uh… I have to get b-back to… “ Jeremy’s eyes darted to and fro as he spoke, his whole face screaming  _ Escape Escape Escape.  _

“No, I think you’re right where I want you to be,” Rich spat out, taking step after step towards Jeremy, effectively backing him up into the wall. He looked so scared… he knew exactly what was coming. But there was also a sort of cloudy acceptance in his eyes. It almost made Rich stop, regret hitting him like a tidal wave.  _ Don’t get emotional.  _

**“That’s right, Rich. Don’t get emotional. Get mad. Now get on with it.”** Rich gritted his teeth and thought back at the SQUIP as he watched Jeremy squirm, his breathing getting faster and louder.  _ He didn’t do anything to me. No one’s even watching. Who cares? _

**“Look how pathetic he is, Rich. Lonely. Ugly. Useless. Just like you used to be. Just like you’ll be again if you ever get rid of me. Do you want that, Rich?”**

_ No. _

**“Tell him how terrible he is.”**

“You’re so pathetic, tall-ass. No one gives a shit about you.” Lie. Jeremy’s friend, whatever his name was, seemed to be a great friend. Rich knew that hoodie kid would probably never abandon Jeremy for not wearing name-brand or for saying the wrong thing. 

“I-I-”

“It’s astonishing that your ugly ass can even get up in the morning.” Lie. Jeremy wasn’t ugly. Sure, he could use a better fashion sense and a skin-care routine, but he had wonderfully deep eyes and a dorky little smile. Brooke had pointed out once that his hair had all the fluffiness of a kitten. Body-wise, he wasn’t exactly lacking either. He was a twig, sure, but-

“FUCK!” Rich yelled as he was shocked. His explosion made Jeremy squeak and back up one more pace until his back was flat on the wall.  _ What was that? _

**“Rich. Punch him. Now.”** Rich bit his lip and pulled back a fist, doing his best to block out Jeremy’s pleading for him to go away and leave him alone. Just earlier this week, he’d already beat up the poor boy, probably leaving him with several nasty bruises on his chest and arms. This was just too horrible. He’d beaten him to the point of bleeding on Tuesday.  _ There was red everywhere…  _ The SQUIP took over.  _ No! Don’t! I’ll-I’ll do it myself! _

Rich’s face morphed into a sick grin against his will as his arm was thrust forward into Jeremy’s face, causing him to cry out. That’d be a black eye tomorrow for sure. It wasn’t enough for the SQUIP. Rich’s arm pulled back again and punched Jeremy’s chest a couple more times. All he could do was watch as Jeremy crumbled onto the floor, choking out tears.  _ I hate him, _ Rich thought.  _ He deserves this. He’s a loser. I’m not a loser. I’m not like him.  _ Rich landed one more blow, right on Jeremy’s mouth.  _ Red. More red, dripping from his lips.  _ Jeremy folded into himself, sobbing and rocking slightly, covering his head with his arms. Rich regained control. 

**“Mock him.”**

“C-can’t you take a fucking hit? Pussy.” Jeremy was the bravest person he knew. Because he kept coming to school, even when Rich was there too. Rich was a coward. Jeremy lost his balance as he tried to get up and fell forward into Rich, blood dripping onto Rich’s shirt. He grabbed Jeremy with a growl.

“You useless-- this shirt costs more than your parent’s divorce did,” he said. “Get out of my sight.” Taking the opportunity, Jeremy shakily got to his feet and sprinted out of the bathroom. Rich forced himself to push Jeremy from his mind, knowing he was likely to get a lecture from his SQUIP if he thought about what just happened. As he lit up and took a long drag, his mind drifted back to the very class he was missing. What chapter were they on? Five. Chapter Five. Something about shirts and Daisy Buchanan being emotional.

_ The fancy shirts didn’t mean anything. Anyone can buy a shirt. It doesn’t make Gatsby a better, more likable person. _

Rich skipped the rest of the day. He couldn’t be seen with a blood stain on his shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Jeremy Heere I swear guys. I mean it. I PROMISE. DONT TAKE AWAY MY JEREMY HEERE PROTECTION SQUAD LICENSE!!!


	4. Jeremy

The odd thing about Rich was that no one really knew where he came from. He sort of just… appeared sophomore year. He’d probably transferred. Which made it all the more impressive that he was able to climb the ranks as quickly as he did. Which also made it all the more perplexing as to why Rich hated him.

Maybe it was just Jeremy’s existence that disgusted Rich. But still… that didn’t explain why Rich had sauntered up to Jeremy on the very first day of sophomore year and pushed him against the lockers without a second thought. He’d never done anything to Rich. If he was brand new that day, how could he walk down those halls like he owned the place and Jeremy was someone invading his territory?

Maybe that was just how disgusting he was. Maybe everyone wanted to do those things to Jeremy, and Rich was the only one bold enough to.

There Jeremy was, sitting by himself, spiraling into self-deprecation and pressing a year-old bag of frozen peas to his eye, hoping to ease the swelling. Of course the Mells would choose this weekend to leave town for a random cousin’s wedding or whatever. He wanted to call Michael, but he couldn't get further than hovering his finger above the “call” button. When was the ceremony again? Jeremy couldn’t risk being a nuisance. He tossed his phone to the side and groaned into the bag of peas. He needed to talk to someone…

His eye caught a pen lying on his nightstand. The green one he’d used to talk to his soulmate on Wednesday. Jeremy considered his options. He reluctantly got up to retrieve the pen, then sunk back onto his bed. Even if his soulmate ignored him like the last time he tried to vent, it would be better than internalizing all his feelings… right?

_Hey so I know we never really talk… but I really need to talk to someone right now and your kinda the only one I have._

Jeremy clicked his pen in anticipation as he waited.

* _You’re_ came the response. Jeremy grunted. His soulmate was an asshole. Did they just not read what the message actually said or did they literally just hate Jeremy that much?

 _Nevermind, whatever_ Jeremy wrote. _You could have just said no._

 _Sorry_ came the response. _I was trying to make a joke, good job me._ It was sloppier than the other writing. Panicked, maybe? Hurried? Maybe his soulmate did care about him, at least enough to be a decent person when Jeremy was hurting.

 _What’s up? Something wrong?_ his soulmate added after a bit. So they were really going to talk. For real this time.

 _There’s this asshole at school who torments me daily,_ Jeremy wrote in the tiniest letters he could. It would be hard for him to avoid that bruise on his arm.

 _You get yelled at? Or beat up?_ his soulmate wrote. Jeremy didn’t see why it really mattered.

 _Both_ he wrote.

 _So I’m guessing you’re not very popular_ came the response. Jeremy choked on his air for a second. Of course his soulmate would think he was a loser. He should have never opened his mouth. Or rather, picked up his pen. Whatever. _That’s where your bruise was from, isn’t it,_ his soulmate deduced.

 _He’s fucking terrifying,_ Jeremy wrote. _I don’t even know why he hates me. I’ve never bothered him._ They were running out of room on the left arm, so he got up and walked across the room to get some hand sanitizer. Even after he got back, there wasn’t a full response.  
His soulmate had written _I don’t_ and then nothing else. Maybe they were just thinking. Or maybe they’d abandoned Jeremy again.

_I don’t_

_Maybe this guy is just an asshole by nature. I don’t know why someone would just want to hurt you._ Surprisingly enough, Jeremy just didn’t think that was the case with Rich. He’d been nothing but a bully to Jeremy and yet… there were some things that confused Jeremy. There’d been a couple instances where Rich had hesitated. Some moments where his face would flash with fear before it was replaced by a smirk. And it may have just been his imagination, but Jeremy swore he sometimes saw regret in Rich’s eyes. Jeremy hated that. It would be so much easier just to write Rich off as a dick, but he knew whatever was going on was more complex than that. He just couldn’t understand.

 _Do you think people can just be assholes by nature?_ he wrote.

 _Soulmate, do you really want to start that whole Nature vs. Nurture debate with me? I get enough of that in Psych jfc_ his soulmate replied. That made Jeremy chuckle a little bit. He appreciated his soulmate listening to him and trying to cheer him up. His arm was filling up, so Jeremy squirted some hand sanitizer onto his arm and cleared the slate of skin. After shaking his arm around for a bit to dry it, Jeremy responded.

_I bet he doesn’t even know what it’s like to be beat up._

_You think?_ his soulmate said.

 _Do you know what it’s like?_ Jeremy waited for a response, but nothing came immediately. He was about to start writing “nevermind” when his soulmate finally wrote back.

 _Yeah. Asshole dad._ Yikes. For all Jeremy complained to Michael about his deadbeat dad, he took the smallest comfort in the fact that he wasn’t a drunk or an abusive asshole. He wished he could do something for his soulmate.

 _Are you okay?_ he asked.

 _I can handle myself. Are you okay?_ came the response. Jeremy cracked a small smile. It was nice to know someone cared about him, even if they didn’t even know his name. Just another person to add to the world’s smallest circle of support.

 _Not really,_ said Jeremy. _He’s super strong and popular. But hey, already over halfway done with high school._

 _I’m gonna fite this asshole for picking on you._ His soulmate then proceeded to illustrate their point by drawing a small stick figure with muscles punching another stick figure into the sun.

 _Is the one with muscles supposed to be you?_ Jeremy teased.

 _Wow, i promise to defend you and this is the thanks i get. Best soulmate in the world right here, folks._ Jeremy laughed. It felt good, even if the movement made his bruises sting a little. Talking to his soulmate… even though they were practically a stranger… it felt safe.

 _Do you think we’ll ever meet each other?_ Jeremy wrote. He could use another real-life friend there to support him.

 _I’m not ready for that yet_ his soulmate responded. Jeremy tried to suppress his disappointment. _But I want to. Eventually. Maybe when I’m kicking your bully’s ass._

 _I want to know what you look like_ Jeremy wrote. His soulmate was just a blank face behind a pen somewhere. He desperately wanted an image of the person he was talking to, even if it was simple. (And if he got off to that image once or twice there’d be no real harm done.)

 _Well I’m short as fuck_ came the response. _That’s the only thing really noteworthy about me._ Jeremy snorted as his soulmate added _That and the muscles._ Jeremy could take the hint. If his soulmate hadn’t revealed anything more significant-- for example their gender -- then they probably didn’t want Jeremy knowing a lot. That was ok. But he wanted to ask one more self-indulgent question.

_Do you have a lot of friends?_

_You’re the only real friend I have. But I’m okay with that._

Jeremy didn’t respond for the rest of the night, instead using his pen to draw little hearts all over his homework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some fluff to make you forget about the shit i pulled in chapter 3 ;)


	5. Rich

Rich didn’t know how long he’d been at the party, but it felt like it had been several hours. It was Friday night, and that meant a Jake Dillinger house party. It was exhausting to keep up with all of them sometimes. But, the SQUIP insisted that he should attend as many parties as possible, plus Jake would always seem so disappointed if he didn’t show. So there he was. Sober at another typical high school party.

A girl he didn’t know was grinding on him, touching his chest. Had they been talking? Did she introduce herself? Rich couldn’t even remember. God, he just wished he could get drunk. But that was a no-go. If he got drunk, he’d have no idea how to keep up his cool facade. Plus he’d get his stupid old lisp back. 

The girl let out a moan and kissed Rich on the lips as they danced. She was quite beautiful, and had mature curves to her body, but Rich still had to feign interest as he tilted his head and kissed her deeper. Same old, same old. She seemed super into him, trailing her hands over his muscular build and slurring out one-liners. He wasn’t really paying attention. He probably should have been, though. For all knew, this girl could be his soulmate.

No, she wouldn’t be. His soulmate didn’t seem like a party person. They were probably at home, somewhere pleasantly cool and comfy, maybe reading a book or something. Did his soulmate like books? Rich guessed that was something to ask them later. He wished he could be home with a book right then… 

**“This girl wants to sleep with you. Pay attention.”** Right. Duty calls. He grabbed the girl’s wrist a bit aggressively (something she seemed  _ very  _ into) and pulled her in the direction of Jake’s parents' room. The girl practically leaped onto him, wrapping her legs around his waist and holding onto his neck, all the while nipping at his chest. Rich smirked, reminded yet again why the SQUIP was fucking awesome. His life ruled, soulmate or not. Once they started, he’d feel better for sure. 

 

…

 

Something was wrong with Rich. The girl was going down on him, and all he could think about was  _ The Great Gatsby _ . What the fuck.

 

…

 

They finished after a little bit. The girl didn’t seem like she wanted to cuddle or anything, because she was already reaching for her discarded crop top and jeans when Rich’s breathing finally normalized. That was perfectly fine with Rich. He didn’t even remember this girl’s name and had only slept with her because that’s what popular kids did. Physically, yes, he had enjoyed it. But mentally? He was all over the place and just couldn’t figure out why. Rich hated himself for not being able to focus on the hot girl in front of him -- he had no business being so preoccupied with nerdy things.

**“You do not,”** the SQUIP agreed.  **“I’m going to block out all audio from your English classes from now on. That way, you can concentrate on what matters without those intrusive thoughts.”**

_ Whatever  _ thought Rich.  _ As long as I get to keep my B+ average.  _ He didn’t care if he’d miss the class discussions. He didn’t. Because that stuff doesn’t matter to cool kids. Rich groaned softly into his hands and scanned the floor for his discarded boxers. The girl had already left the room at some point while he was talking to the SQUIP. At least that meant he could get out of bed and look for them more thoroughly without having to cover himself up.

Rich got out from under the covers and found his boxers draped over a knob on the closet. It would have been more surprising if Rich couldn’t vividly recall the girl practically ripping them off of him like a crazy sex-crazed demon. He had just picked them up when the door swung open. Rich let out a yelp and sloppily tried to cover himself with his hands.

“I said NO ONE is allowed in here!” Jake growled as he stomped into the room in a blind rage. “Who thought it’d be a good idea to-” He cut himself off when he caught the sight of Rich, naked in the corner.

_ Um, so how exactly do I play this off? _ Rich thought at the SQUIP.

“Rich?” Jake asked. He shook his head in disbelief. “What the fuck, dude? What the  _ fuck? _ You know I never want anyone to go in here. And you fuck one of my exes here at my own goddamn party? Go to hell.” He took a swig of his beer and tossed the empty bottle into the corner.

Rich felt like an asshole. Why didn’t he realize? Jake never wanted anyone to go into his parents’ room. He wanted it to stay exactly the same in case they ever came back. And he had just spat on Jake’s wishes by sleeping with an ex of his. Why didn’t the SQUIP warn him about that?  _ Why did you make me sleep with her? _

**“I’m getting the impression that you don’t trust me, Richard,”** it said. 

_ Not right now, no _ Rich shot back.  _ What the fuck is your motive in all these sex-capades, anyway?  _

**“If that is how you wish to behave, you can talk to Jake without my assistance.”**

_ What? Wait please don’t- _

His head went silent. The room was entirely silent too. Jake had sat down on the bed and was holding his head in his hands. Rich didn’t know what to do. Should he just leave? He couldn’t talk to Jake like this. He’d mess everything up. It wasn’t like Jake really looked like he wanted to continue the conversation currently either, so Rich quietly pulled on his boxers and his t-shirt, which had fallen nearby. Just as he was about to leave, Jake spoke up.

“I didn’t mean that, man,” Jake said. “Just a shitty night. You can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“I didn’t know!” Rich spat out quickly before he could think better of speaking up and encouraging conversation. “I didn’t realize that this was your parents’ room… and I didn’t know she was your ex.” Jake gave him an odd look.

“Whatever bro, you do you,” he said, clearly not believing his denial. Then, after a minute, he added “I think you should stop drinking man, you’ve got a ridiculous lisp right now.”

Rich decided not to comment on that.

“You said tonight’s been hard,” Rich said carefully. Was it chill to share your feelings? He was almost positive the SQUIP would disapprove, but then again… Jake looked like he really needed it. 

“I tried to talk to my soulmate again,” Jake said. “Which was stupid, I mean, they’ve never responded before, why would they now, right?” Rich nodded slowly and moved to sit down next to Jake. “So I write down a message, right?” Jake continued. “I wrote  _ How come you never want to talk to me?  _ And do you know what they said? You know what they fucking wrote?” 

“They wrote back?” Rich couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice. Jake just scoffed.

“They wrote _Read at 11:37 pm_. ” Jake laughed bitterly. His breath smelled like vanilla and beer. Rich found himself scooting a bit closer to comfort his friend. Jake deserved a soulmate who cared about him. It seemed that whenever someone neglected Jake, he only adopted more self-destructive tendencies to fill the void in his life. And Rich may have been living a lie, but that didn’t stop him from genuinely caring about Jake. He wasn’t going to let his fear of saying the wrong thing get in the way of comforting his best friend.

“She’ll come around,” Rich said, patting Jake on the back. “I promise you, she will. You’re Jake Motherfucking Dillinger. Any girl would be lucky to have you as a soulmate. You can win over anyone, and she’s no exception.”

Jake stiffened a bit and averted his gaze, suddenly silenced. 

“Rich… “ he started. He hesitated for a while as if he was unsure of how to word something. “Do you think my soulmate might-” Jake was cut off by the door swinging open again. Some senior from the basketball team was standing in the doorway.

“Yo! The captains of the women’s volleyball team are making out in the kitchen! Tongue and everything!” Then he sprinted away. Rich knew exactly what the SQUIP would want him to say.

“Girl on girl action,” he said, elbowing Jake playfully. “Let’s go see those hotties, huh?” Jake’s pensive expression dropped into a frown, and he curled in a bit on himself. He almost looked a bit insecure, but Rich knew better than that. This was Jake Dillinger. He was just drunk.

“You go ahead,” Jake said. “I have a lot on my mind.” Rich knew the feeling. But at the same time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever Jake had been about to say before they were interrupted was really bothering him. He could always get it out of Jake next time he was drunk. And he would be, guaranteed, at next Friday’s mandatory party. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter will be a Jake Chapter!
> 
> leave a comment i am but a poor confused bi who runs on constant validation


	6. Jake

There was no way he hadn’t known. They hardly ever talked about deep things, one bro to another, so there’s no way he could have just forgotten. It probably wasn't malicious. It just showed that he didn’t care. Keeping their room tidy was Jake’s way of keeping vigil. When the room was disrupted, he was reminded of how his status quo had been disrupted by those two gaping absences in his life. Had it been long enough that being on his own was Jake’s new status quo? He didn’t know, and he never would, as long as he had no one to talk to. If only Rich cared.

Rich just didn’t seem to care about a lot of things, especially recently. Not about school… or parties… or girls… or feelings. Especially feelings. He had been so distant and insensitive lately, and he never seemed to want to open up. Rich didn’t seem to want to let Jake open up to him either. Jake wasn’t an emotional guy… but he really needed someone to talk to. And that someone had just walked out of the door without even bothering to put on his pants. Jake could see them shoved in a mess under the window. Another party, another one night stand for his best friend. 

Rich was so carefree -- he’d never need to cry by himself just to face every new day. Jake kind of hated him for that. Because Jake wished he didn’t have to feel things.

He wished that he could get excited about the freedom of living alone instead of leaving his door open and sleeping with a light. He wished he could throw parties because he wanted to throw parties, and not because he wanted to fill up his usually silent, empty house. He wished he could enjoy sleeping with girls and not get distracted by the fact that his soulmate was never going to love him. He wished he had someone to talk to. Because Jake was having a crisis.

Jake sighed to himself and stood up, doing his best to fix the shoddily smoothed-down sheets on the bed while not thinking about what had transpired there minutes before. He had to do the laundry tomorrow… he should throw the sheets in. He couldn’t very well just leave the dirty sheets there as a constant reminder of the disturbance. His jaw clenched as he quickly stripped the bed. Jake was having a crisis. He needed to talk to an adult, but he didn’t have anyone. 

His phone buzzed in his jean pocket. Probably some guest wondering where he’d disappeared to. He checked anyway, and saw he had a chain of messages from Rich.

 

| From: it’s richney bitch | theyre using tongue deadass bro

| From: it’s richney bitch | where r u

| From: it’s richney bitch | also out of beer

| From: it’s richney bitch | are my pants still in there

| From: it’s richney bitch | jk dude keep i wont need them ;)

 

Jake didn’t respond to the messages. He didn’t want to think about the party outside and all the people he was letting down. He really wished his best friend could just be there for him. Because Jake was having a crisis. And it was a crisis he definitely couldn’t talk to Rich about. Rich was… a lot. That was the only way to really put it. He had an unnatural kind of vibe, where he was cruel and insensitive, but also never said the wrong thing, like he was hard-wired with all the instincts he needed to claw his way to the top of the social food chain.

He was a real asshole to that one twiggy kid who wore cardigans. When questioned about it, Rich would always say that the kid was “looking at him funny” or “ran into him”. Jake hadn’t ever seen anything of the sort. Recently, he’d just said that the kid deserved it for being a “fucking homo”. That didn’t seem fair. But, it wasn’t really worth it to bring the issue up to Rich and start another conflict. It wasn’t like it mattered to him, after all. Jake was having a crisis. 

Contrary to what a lot of people likely thought, Jake didn’t care that much about popularity. It was just a side effect of doing so many activities and having so much booze at his disposal. But what he did care about was his friendship with Rich. And he was almost positive that he’d never be able to be as popular and untouchable as his best friend was. Because Rich was ambitious, and he valued popularity above everything else -- he had a precise understanding of what could be deemed “cool” and “uncool”, and when he stated his opinion on such a matter, he said it with such confidence that you knew it was law. Rich was unshakeable, and Jake had never really seen him vulnerable. 

Mentally-wise, that was. He had just seen Rich basically naked. He was well-built, with prominent abs and drool-worthy biceps. The sweat he had accumulated during sex glistened and dripped off every hard line in his body. He seemed to be well-hung too. Jake was having a crisis.

He needed a drink. He needed to get back out into the party, even if it scared him. He couldn’t be alone anymore. Especially not there. Especially not with all these alien, invasive thoughts clouding his head. Jake was having a crisis and he was entirely on his own. 

 

…

 

… Jake was standing beside the bed and the boy was sitting up between the sheets, clad in his underwear, with an empty can in his hand. 

 

…

 

No one needed to know. Rich never could.

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jake...i love you...im sorry
> 
> also i realized that unlike most bmc works, michael is the only character who HASN'T suffered immensely. (yet)
> 
>  
> 
> if you havent noticed, im a slut for gatsby and unreliable narrators ok thanks ill shut up now comment if you want i love you all


	7. Jeremy

When Jeremy woke up, there was writing on his inner thigh. It wasn’t his soulmate’s handwriting.

_ Sorry soulmate <3 I’m getting busy with Hannah xox _

He called Michael. He’d never needed someone to talk to so badly in his whole life, except maybe the night when his mother left. Michael had been there for him then, and he’d be there for him now. Jeremy tapped his fingertips on his knee as he waited.

“Sup, buddy?” Michael’s voice was like an angelic choir breaking through the storm in Jeremy’s head.

“I’m having a crisis,” he whispered closely into the phone. He heard Michael shift on the other side of the line, most likely sitting up in bed to give the call his full attention.

“Do you need me to come over?” Michael said. 

“No… I don’t think so.”

“I’m coming anyway.”

“You’re the best.”

“Honey, I know.”

 

…

 

When Michael came over, he wasn’t empty-handed. He had two 7-eleven slushies, a bag full of video games, and his biggest, fluffiest blanket. When he entered Jeremy’s room, he didn’t say anything at first. He stripped his red hoodie and eased it over Jeremy’s head. Then he wrapped his friend in the huge blanket like a giant sushi roll. Finally, he placed a blue slushie into Jeremy’s hands and sat on the opposite end of the bed. It seemed like overkill, but Jeremy appreciated the gesture. 

“What kind of crisis are we dealing with, Jer?” 

“Are we sure  _ you’re _ not my soulmate?” Jeremy joked. “You’re really the best, I mean it.”

“If I was your soulmate, you’d never meet anybody else,” Michael said. “And as much as I like hogging you, I know it’d be selfish of me to keep all your greatness to myself.” Michael shifted closer to Jeremy and softly leaned against him, giving Jeremy the invitation to start whenever he wanted to. Problem was, Jeremy didn’t really know what to say. 

“My soulmate’s gay,” he blurted out. Wow, great phrasing right there. Michael pulled back a little bit and gave him a confused look.

“What?”

Jeremy shifted out from underneath the blanket a bit. He was still clad in his boxers, so he could easily show Michael where the girl, “Hannah”, had written on his soulmate’s inner thigh. 

“She slept with a girl,” Jeremy sighed. “The one person the universe picked out, who was guaranteed to love me, doesn’t even like boys.” Jeremy choked out a sob and leaned against Michael’s shoulder. His best friend rubbed a hand on his back to calm him down. Sometimes all Jeremy needed was Michael’s presence to calm down. The simple gesture was their way of communicating when one of them was struggling mentally.

“Okay, Jeremy. I’m going to talk for awhile and try to make you feel better. Okay?” Jeremy nodded. “But just because I’m trying to cheer you up doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to be upset. So don’t be afraid to cry.” Another nod. Michael took a deep breath in and out, and Jeremy did the same. He was okay. They were okay.

“First of all, Jeremy, I’m sorry that this happened and you found out about it like this. I understand and you have a right to be sad. Secondly, this… doesn’t necessarily mean your soulmate’s not into boys.” Jeremy wiped his eyes with his sleeve and looked up at Michael.

“W-What? What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” Michael said, tugging Jeremy’s blanket a bit tighter. “She could be bisexual. Or pansexual. Or maybe something else. Sexuality isn’t limited to one gender, you know.” Jeremy did know… somewhere in the back of his head. But he hadn’t thought of that.

“Or…” Michael hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Your soulmate might not be… your soulmate could be a boy.” 

_ Oh.  _ Jeremy hadn’t thought of that either in his panic. He’d considered it before, of course, but he’d never considered it seriously. But that couldn’t be right. Jeremy liked girls. He had a crush on Christine Canigula, a beautiful thespian that he shared a math class with. If only he could be brave enough to sign up for the school play...he wished Christine could just be his soulmate and he wouldn’t have to deal with all of this.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“You don’t know?” Michael asked. “You mean… you don’t know if your soulmate’s a boy or… you don’t know if you’d be okay with that?”

“Both….I think? God, Michael, I just don’t know.” He hated not knowing. All of this was way too much at once.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay,” Michael cooed. “You don’t have to know. You don’t need to worry about your soulmate right now. Talk to me about Christine! Weren’t you going to try to write her a letter?”

“I… yeah,” Jeremy choked through the tears. “But I’m not her soulmate and-”

“Soulmates are bullshit. Love who you want to love Jeremy. You don’t owe your soulmate anything.”

“I know that works for you, Mike,” Jeremy said. “But… not for me. Even if I want to date Christine… I still want my soulmate to-... I still want them to...care about me. And I feel like she… or he… does. Even if it’s just a little.”

“Okay… okay, Jer,” Michael said, rubbing his back again. “Your soulmate will come around. Nothing they’re doing is your fault. Just focus on Christine right now, okay? Tell me about her.” It took Jeremy a second to collect his thought and calm down enough to form words again.

“She… she has the brightest smile and… and the widest eyes. Sh-she loves theatre and being herself which is great because…  _ she’s  _ great, you know? And she’s always wearing these different outfits… you never know what-” He paused to wipe his nose with his sleeve. “You never know what she’s gonna wear, or what she’s gonna do. And sometimes… she wears these colorful clips in her hair and she’ll take them out and fidget with them and… shit, when she does that… I just can’t look away.”

“Try talking to her at school on Monday,” Michael said eventually. “Or just smile at her. I’m sure she’d love to hear about how amazing you think she is.”

Jeremy wished his real soulmate could love Jeremy like Jeremy loved Christine. Jeremy wished he could love his real soulmate the way he loved Christine. At least Michael understood. 

Wait a minute. There was writing on Michael’s arm. Michael’s handwriting.

“Y-you wrote to your soulmate?” It was selfish, but Jeremy felt a little betrayed. Michael looked bewildered and looked down at his arm. Then he instantly relaxed and snorted, showing Jeremy the writing. Beneath his soulmate’s attempt to make contact, Michael had written “ _ Read at 11:37pm.” _

“Thought I’d mess with him since he clearly isn’t getting the message that I’m not interested right now,” Michael said with a shrug. “I don’t know why he’s so persistent. From the way he first contacted me, he sounded like a smooth-talking straight white boy. Surely he can get plenty.”

“You got all that from his first message?” Jeremy asked with a small laugh.

“His name is  _ Jake.  _ Need I say more?” Jeremy shook his head and smiled a little more at the familiarity of the conversation. Something about Michael’s nonchalance towards soulmates seemed a little unfair to him, but at the moment, it was making him feel significantly better. But unlike Michael, he wasn’t giving up on his soulmate. He was just going to… put them on a backburner. On Monday, he’d do his best to smile at Christine. Heck, maybe he’d sign up for the play.

Anything was better than agonizing over some invisible person who he could never hope to be cool enough for. 


	8. Rich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys missed something BIG at the end of the Jake chapter. That's all I'm gonna say. ;)
> 
> (In general, you all should know I'm very deliberate when I write and there's lots of foreshadowing and subtext. Feel free to take that however you like.)
> 
>  
> 
> And as always, leave a comment if you liked it!

When Rich woke up, he was in Jake’s house, surrounded by the eerie aftermath of a party -- an empty house full of streamer scraps and spilled beer, with EDM playing quietly on a Spotify playlist that had never been shut off. The girl he’d fucked was gone. What was her name again? Hayley? It didn’t matter. He’d probably never see her again. 

The lights of the guest bedroom were off, but harsh sunlight was pouring in through the window. Rich grunted and sat up, knowing he wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Jake would probably also appreciate any help he could get to clean up. Now, where were his pants?

**“You left them in the master bedroom.”**

Right. They were in Jake’s parents’ room. He should just get up and go get-

Wait. Jake’s parents’ room. Last night, he’d slept with Jake’s ex on his parent’s bed. And Jake was pissed about it… and he yelled… Rich was suddenly shocked fully awake as he remembered. He hadn’t seen Jake for the rest of the party. 

Rich pulled on his boxers and bolted out the door. Jake was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee, staring at the wall. He hadn’t started cleaning up yet, which was an instant red flag. Jake was always up early, and he never was one to put things off. He didn’t necessarily look  _ unhappy  _ but there was something surreal about seeing Jake without his million-dollar smile. 

“Uh, hey man,” Rich started awkwardly.  _ Can I ask him where he disappeared to last night? _

**“If you must.”**

“Oh, you’re still here,” Jake said. “And pantless. They’re in the same place you left them.” Jake didn’t say anything more than that. Rich was grateful that he wasn’t commenting on Rich’s big fuck-up last night. He nodded towards Jake and shuffled away quickly into the Master bedroom to retrieve them. 

The sheets on the bed were rumpled and flung about. 

“So,” Rich said as he re-entered the kitchen. “Nice party, man. Did you have a good time?” Jake sipped his coffee absentmindedly and kept staring at the wall. It was like he hadn’t even heard Rich. Was he still mad about Rich sleeping on his parents’ bed with that girl? He had seemed pretty pissed… maybe he’d passed out drunk after Rich had left. That was the only logical explanation. Well either that or… 

“You sleep with any hot chicks? I know you’ve had your eye on that French bitch.”

“No,” Jake answered quickly and concisely. “I didn’t.”

“For real?” Rich couldn’t believe it. He’d slept with two girls at the party, and Jake didn’t sleep with any? It had to be out of choice. He’d never be able to surpass Jake at anything. Rich walked around and sat opposite Jake at the table, fiddling with the empty salt shaker. “Then where’d you disappear off to?”

Jake made a face and gazed down at his last drops of coffee, swishing the liquid around in circles with small movements of his wrist. He didn’t answer. That was… concerning. Jake hardly ever straight up ignored someone. And not Rich… never Rich. Not even when he deserved it. 

“Threw up in the bathroom a lot,” he said finally. “Drank too much. Rookie mistake, huh?” He gave Rich a lopsided smile and Rich punched his shoulder.

“Don’t go light-weight on me, Dillinger!” he cackled. “You know I can’t live without your parties!” Rich wished he didn’t have to go to parties so he could go out and live. 

Jake smirked and finished his cup of coffee, standing up to his full height to go pour another. When he returned, he passed a cup to Rich too. He was still being unusually quiet. It made sense to pin it all on the hangover but Rich had seen Jake hungover countless times. It was like they had no effect on him. He was still all energy, all smiles. Seeing Jake like this was disheartening. And  _ weird.  _ Rich cleared his throat since it was clearly his responsibility to lead the conversation. 

“You missed some good shit last night, bro,” Rich said as he took a sip. (Ugh. Decaf. How did Jake drink this crap?) “The two volleyball captains made out and it was fucking  _ hot.  _ Ricky Dalton was drunk as fuck so he just whipped it out and jacked off right there to it.” Parties were always so loud and suffocating. Rich was growing to hate them more than anything else. 

“And later on I was talking to that Senior… Trey. From the basketball team? He was high as shit and kept saying the funniest things.”

“I know Trey,” Jake finally chimed in. “He runs with the track team sometimes. Nice guy. I think he’s a point guard.” Finally, some conversation. 

“Dustin Kropp was here selling some good shit,” Rich added. “I think he left early though because I was gonna buy from him and couldn’t find him.” Jake’s smile dropped and he sipped his coffee again. 

“That sucks,” he said simply. Rich had had enough.  _ I’m going to confront him about our argument. I think he’s still mad at me.  _

**“He is not. He has something else on his mind.”**

_ Deadass? What? _

**“You will find out soon enough.”**

“Listen man… I’m sorry-” Rich was shocked immediately. He winced, but didn’t cry out. He was almost used to it now.

**“Don’t show any vulnerability. Get mad.”**

“Why are you acting like this? Are you mad about your ex? Get fucking over it man, you get way more girls than I do, and I didn’t even know. So don’t be fucking dramatic.” Rich was terrified to be yelling at his friend. Talking to him like he was above Jake, even though that was the polar opposite of the truth and Rich was a fraud. 

“Rich, drop it-”

“No! Why the fuck are you acting this way? How drunk did you get last night? Were you so pissed you just passed out angry somewhere?”

“It’s not about my ex,” Jake said through gritted teeth. 

“Is it because ‘oh boo hoo! My soulmate doesn’t like me!’ because you should be over that by now.”

“Okay, fuck off, but no.”

“Then what is it about, Jake?”

“It’s because I needed you last night!” Jake yelled, standing up suddenly, lip quivering. The coffee cup tipped over at the motion and a small puddle began to form. “And you weren’t there for me!” 

Rich opened and closed his mouth.  _ What the fuck was this?  _ The SQUIP took over.

“Then you should have dumped it all on some girl,” Rich was forced to say with a scoff. “I’m not your bro to be your personal pity party.” Rich’s legs were forced into a standing position, and his face forced into a sneer. 

Rich was a terrible friend.

“Thanks for the party. And the coffee.” And with that, Rich grabbed his coat and exited the house with a slam of the door. 


	9. Jake

As the door slammed, Jake grabbed his phone.

| To: Unsaved Number | tell anyone what we did and youre dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .


	10. Jeremy

Jeremy didn’t know what to say to his soulmate. He was mad at her. Or him. Whatever. He knew somewhere that he was being unfair-- after all, it wasn’t like he was dating his soulmate. They could sleep with whoever they wanted. And Jeremy was still a virgin in pretty much every aspect. So, who was to say his soulmate was even interested in him? He had confessed to getting bullied, so his soulmate was aware that Jeremy was a loser. Still, this didn’t necessarily mean his soulmate had given up on him.

Maybe it was just the sting of finding out in such an insensitive way that was encouraging the raging pit in his stomach. Jeremy clicked his pen and sighed, leaning back against the wall. Should he even bother writing anything? He wanted to. Selfish as it seemed, he wanted to remind his soulmate that he existed.

But no words seemed to come. 

 

…

 

Monday. Cliche as it was, Jeremy hated Mondays. Another terrible day to start off another terrible week in the shithole they called Middle Borough High School. But today he had a goal. He was going to talk to Christine. Or just smile at her. Or attempt to hold eye contact with her without turning into a blushing mess. 

When math class came around, he tried to smile at her from across the room, he really did, but as soon as she looked over toward his side of the room, his gaze dropped down to his wooden desk, heart pounding in his chest. Maybe that was for the better. His teeth were stained with spots from when he had braces in middle school and he didn’t check his teeth for stuck food before coming to class.

As the teacher rambled on, Jeremy wrote a letter in his notebook, confessing all his feelings to Christine. It felt good at the beginning, writing it all down and putting himself out there. But by the time he’d signed his name at the bottom, all he felt was gut-wrenching shame. Christine was far too wonderful to ever notice or consider dating a guy like him. 

“Mr. Heere!” The teacher’s voice snapped Jeremy out of his thoughts. “Do you have the answer to number 9?” Jeremy struggled to find his voice, but all those eyes staring back at him made him freeze up. Some girls in the back row were giggling behind him. And Christine… right there… looking at him… with pity in her eyes.

“N-no, ma'am,” he finally got out. The teacher rolled her eyes and continued, seemingly unfazed by the interaction. But to Jeremy, it was a day-ruining moment.

A  _ Mortification Event,  _ he noted in his head. He needed a good bathroom cry.

 

…

 

_ This one’s for Mondays.  _ Jeremy ripped off a piece of the letter and dropped in into clear water of the toilet bowl, watching it float, the words illegible forever. He ripped off another piece.  _ This one’s for Christine not noticing me.  _ He watched it flutter down, down, down.  _ This one’s for me being a fucking loser.  _ He ripped more forcefully, getting a bigger chunk. Tears poked incessantly out of the corners of his eyes.  _ This one’s for my soulmate not loving me. _ He crumpled the rest of the paper and threw it into the corner of the stall, finally letting some quiet sobs break through. He knew he was being dramatic. He didn’t care. 

Michael was a great friend, and always supported him, but he wouldn’t understand what Jeremy was going through. He didn’t share Jeremy’s insecurities. He was fine with having only one friend, and even though Michael was the best friend a guy could ever have, Jeremy would never be satisfied having only one person to call on. He would have loved that other person to be Christine. Or his soulmate. Something told Jeremy he should give up on both of them. 

He wiped away some leaking tears with his cardigan sleeve and sunk down to his knees on the disgusting floor of the stall, finally letting his tears break free without much resistance. He hated feeling so invisible and rejected. Even if he knew it was what he deserved for being so weak and pathetic.

He covered up his mouth to keep sound from escaping when he heard the bathroom door open. He didn’t mind waiting out someone taking a piss, so long as they didn’t hear him crying. There was a click of a lighter, and then Jeremy smelled smoke gently wafting through the bathroom air.  _ Shit.  _ He’d have to wait a little bit longer before escaping. That was kinda fine. He needed to stop crying and wait for his face to return to its normal color before heading to Chemistry anyway. 

“Shut up,” a voice murmured. A familiar voice. Jeremy stiffened before quickly and quietly scooting closer to the crack in the stall to peer out at the boy who had just lit up and was, apparently, talking to himself, as there was no one else in the bathroom, as far as Jeremy could see.  _ Rich Goranski.  _

Upon closer inspection, Rich wasn’t talking on the phone or anything. He was just leaning against the sinks, smoking, and staring blankly at the stalls. It was funny seeing Rich this quiet and still. He almost looked… sad.  _ Stop feeling bad for him, Jeremy. He fucking beat the shit out of you last week. He’d do it again if he knew you were in here. _

“I don’t want to go to another party,” Rich growled under his breath. Jeremy almost missed it. What the hell was he talking about? “Because I hate them, that’s why.” Rich flinched, and his expression quickly turned ashamed and submissive. He didn’t utter another word, but his expression alone revealed how terrified he was. Jeremy leaned closer, breathing getting heavy. 

Rich was trembling. The arm that was holding the cigarette was spasming, his fingers in a death grip. It bent at the elbow robotically, Rich shaking harder and harder as his arm bent agonizingly slowly over to his left arm. The burning end of the cigarette made contact with Rich’s skin, and he cried out from the burn, biting his lip so hard it began to bleed after a minute. But his hand didn’t pull away. It plunged the end into the wound, twisting it, every motion causing Rich to cry and writhe in pain. 

Then there was a release. Jeremy saw it in Rich’s eyes. The tension in his arm relaxed and he dropped the cigarette, quickly stamping it out. The air smelled of burning flesh. Jeremy held his breath. 

After a couple agonizing seconds, Rich wiped his eyes, checked his biceps out in the mirror in his typical cool-kid fashion, and walked out of the bathroom whistling with his usual swagger, as if nothing odd had happened at all. Jeremy didn’t know what to make of all of that, but as he collected himself, his thoughts drifted back to the conversation he’d had with his soulmate a couple nights prior. Was Rich really someone who was just bad by nature? Or was there something going on with him? 

Jeremy was beginning to think there was something seriously wrong with Rich Goranski. Just another reason to do his best to stay the hell away from the unstable popular kid. If he was willing to do… that… to himself for seemingly no reason… what would he be willing to do to Jeremy, someone he hated? He suddenly felt very scared -- at least he finally had something to say. 

_ Hey, you live anywhere in New Jersey? Urgent.  _

It took a few minutes, but eventually, a response came. 

_ I live in Red Bank. But I don’t want to meet up yet.  _ Red Bank. Jeremy lived in Red Bank. His soulmate was closer than he thought. Maybe they even went to Middle Borough. 

_ I’m scared. I think that guy I told you about (that beats me up) is really dangerous. You still offering to beat him up? _

No response. Jeremy supposed he should elaborate a little bit more. 

_ Only if I really need help. I’ll just write you a sign. Emergencies only, promise. _ Jeremy’s tears had only just cleared up. He didn’t think he could handle a lot more crying. And if his soulmate let him down again…

_ I’ll be there if you need me.  _ Jeremy exhaled. Somewhere out there, he had a protector. Someone who would never let him get hurt by anyone. So what if they’d slept with a girl? Jeremy could deal with that. What mattered is that he had someone there to keep him the fuck away from the menace that was Rich Goranski for good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: I have a complicated, well-refined sense of humor.
> 
> Also me: *chuckles every time I press the button that says "Rich Text" when uploading a chapter*
> 
> Comments are always appreciated :0


	11. Rich

_Searing pain concentrated in one small spot. It dug deeper and deeper, as the voice inside told him off for ever wanting to be happy. Scarred flesh. Scarred mind._

The SQUIP had control of his hands. It was typing up his Gatsby essay for him. A perfectly passable analysis of a perfectly interesting book he’d never read. _Who cares it’s just a stupid grade._ Every so often, he’d glance up at the essay the SQUIP was writing under his name and silently wish he could be the one drawing parallels and scrutinizing character relationships. But he couldn’t, of course, because popular people don’t enjoy that sort of thing.

 _“... pouring into worthless endeavors as people like Gatsby try to reach their “orgastic future” (189). “Orgastic” is a combination of the words ‘_ _orgasmic’ and ‘orgiastic’, two words associated with immense_ _pleasure. Fitzgerald combines the two, amplifying the effects to parallel the ephemeral nature of the American Dream: a fake word for a fake reality…”_ Blah blah blah… was he even reading that right? The SQUIP was writing about orgasms in a school paper?

 **“You sound like a prude,”** it noted, never relinquishing control of his fingers. Rich scoffed quietly. The librarian glared at him from across the room at the noise. He was not a prude. If anyone was being a prude recently, it was Jake, who didn’t sleep with a single girl at his last party, and had gotten all evasive when he’d mentioned it again at lunch. Jake would be fine eventually though -- after all, he was planning another party on Saturday, as well as talking about throwing a huge, all-out shitshow of a party on Halloween.

Jake was so good at being cool. He never slipped up. It seemed like that was all Rich ever did.

**“Go outside. Entrance C. Outside the Old Gymnasium.”**

_Uh, hello? Essay? What’s this all about?_

**“We will call it a study break. Now, do as I instruct.”** Rich knew better than to disobey. And it wasn’t like he particularly enjoyed sitting alone with only the voice in his head to talk to, so close and yet so far to his former passion for literature. He shuddered. Right, he wasn’t supposed to think about that. As he got up from the computer and exited the library, he ran his fingers softly over the burn on his arm.

 

…

 

“You buying?” It was Dustin Kropp, in his usual get-up. He had the fashion sense of a middle-schooler if Rich was being honest, and he supposed Dustin only got a pass from the SQUIP because he was the school’s resident weed dealer. And the shit he had was _good._ Rich almost wished he could talk to Dustin more. He wasn’t popular per se, not in the way the Chloe and Jake were. He was laid back (especially when high) and just a genuinely nice person. Being popular, you didn’t hang out with very many nice people, and even fewer genuine people.

“Fuck yeah,” Rich responded, pounding his fist against Dustin’s in greeting. “What’s your price?”

“Ten bucks. I’ll roll you a joint.”

“That much? You shitting me, man?”

“My future student loans aren’t gonna pay themselves,” Dustin chuckled. Rich handled him the ten, snorting. Dustin pocketed the money and produced a joint, handing it over to Rich. “Need a lighter?” Dustin asked.

“Nah, I’ve got my own.” Dustin nodded and leaned back against the building, taking a drag and breathing in the afternoon air. It was starting to get colder, summer was almost a distant memory erased by the harsh chill of the September air. Junior Year was crawling by at a snail’s pace. But in moments like these, Rich was fine with just existing, breathing in the air, enjoying the presence of someone he didn’t have to impress. Dustin glanced slightly over at Rich, asking the silent question of why he hadn’t lit up yet.

Rich pulled his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it open. He watched the flames dancing in the breeze for a second. _Something about fire… that controlled chaos… it destroyed everything without a trace with only a spark. A clean slate. A gorgeous calamity._

His hand was trembling. He couldn’t bring himself to light the joint. He was tense and jerky, but he wasn’t being controlled by the SQUIP. Not this time. _The burning end inched closer and closer to the bare, untouched skin. Helpless. Hopeless._

He could only light it when he closed his eyes. He snapped the lighter closed and quickly stuffed it in his pocket, out of sight. Rich took a long drag and let himself start to relax. The smoke wafted and danced through the cool air. It had been a while since Rich had felt that free. The SQUIP shut off. Weed always messed with it, so it would always go into a sort of sleep state. It wasn’t completely powered down as it was with alcohol, so it would be ready to come online at a moment’s notice. It would never allow him to be completely unattended.

With the pill out of his mind, he started to think about Jake again. It opened up some floodgate within and let guilt quickly pool in his mind. Jake was mad at him. Jake had needed to talk to him about something at the party. Jake had… Jake had disappeared for the rest of the party. _Doing what?_ Rich thought to himself. _What had you so bothered, Dillinger?_

“You were at the party last Friday, right?” he asked Dustin. He didn’t need to specify which. Everyone knew Jake’s parties were the only parties worth going to.

“Yeah,” Dustin said. “It was nice. Lots of cute guys.” Rich raised an eyebrow.

“Guys? Are you high?” Rich asked incredulously. Surely Dustin had just slipped up.

“Not high. Yet. Just gay,” Dustin responded with a shrug. Rich shook his head, entirely flabbergasted. He took another hit.

“You don’t _look_ gay.”

“Ah, fuck, man,” Dustin said with a laugh. “Did I leave my ‘I Love Dick’ shirt at home _again?_ ”

“That’s disgusting,” Rich sneered. One of the first things the SQUIP taught him was that homosexual feelings were a one-way ticket to the bottom of the social ladder. No wonder Rich wasn’t allowed to hang out with Dustin if he wasn’t buying weed.

“Grow the fuck up, man. It’s not the 50s anymore,” Dustin said. Surprisingly, he didn’t sound hostile, only exasperated, as if he were explaining something simple to a child. Rich hated that tone. It was the same demeaning tone the SQUIP used when it laid out all his flaws.

“Ugh, I’ll find someone else to get weed from,” Rich said. He finished the joint and tossed it in the garbage can. “I can’t be seen hanging out with a homo.” Rich turned on his heels to leave. He grabbed the door handle when he heard Dustin let out a snort of laughter from behind him. “What’s so funny?” he asked stiffly.

“Listen, Rich,” Dustin said, adjusting his hat a little bit. “You’re an asshole, and I don't particularly care for you. But I’d really hate to lose you as a customer. So, if you promise to keep me as your seller, I’ll tell you something I know you’ll be interested in.”

“You don’t know what the fuck-”

“Do you know what Jake was doing at the end of his party on Friday?” What the fuck? What the fuck? How did…

“What-”

“Ah ah ah! Promise me.” Dustin was clearly enjoying toying with him, the most intimidating kid in school. Rich didn’t know how the SQUIP would feel about the situation… but he really needed to know. Jake sure as hell wasn’t going to open up to him after their fight. He wouldn’t open up, period, because it wasn’t cool to have heart-to-hearts.

“... sure. I promise. Now, what was he doing?”

“More like _who._ ” Dustin smirked and put his hands in his pockets.

“He told me he didn’t sleep with any girls. Jake doesn’t lie.”

“He didn’t sleep with a girl. He slept with me.” Rich felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. _Liar. LIAR. Jake wouldn’t… he wasn’t… it couldn’t be true._

“W-”

“I found him crying in his parents' room, sheets half on the floor, sitting in a puddle of spilled beer. So I thought, ‘there’s a dude who desperately needs to get high and talk things out.’” _It couldn’t be true. It didn’t make sense. Jake was perfect. Jake was cool. So how could he also…_

“He didn’t want any drugs. He just wanted someone to talk to. So I promised not to say anything, and he told me he was having a sexuality crisis. You know, that for a while, he didn’t think gender really mattered at all when it came to partners, and he was noticing guys especially more than ever. Said he thinks he might have offended his soulmate by assuming they were a girl.” _If Jake could be gay, why couldn’t Rich? Did this mean that the SQUIP was_

“He said he wished he could talk to you about it, but you always said so much shit about gay people that he was terrified. He needed a distraction, man. And he didn’t want my drugs, so I offered up… a different kind of service. And we did it.” _Get it out get it out he had to get it out_

“If you’re his friend at all,” Dustin concluded. “You’ll talk to him about this. And change your attitude. I don’t think you’re all bad, Rich. Oh, and uh… you didn’t hear this from me, okay?” And with that, Dustin left, nonchalantly whistling some Troye Sivan song Rich couldn’t remember the name of.

_Mountain Dew Red turns it off Mountain Dew Red turn it off turn it off turn it off turn it_

The SQUIP turned on.

 **“Now you have sufficient evidence to understand our new objective,”** the SQUIP explained. Rich nodded mutely. **“You need to expose Jake Dillinger’s homosexual encounter with Dustin Kropp and take his place at the top of the social ladder.”**

Head spinning, Rich threw up into the trash can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *pulls up google* hOW MUCH does ONE (1) weEd COsT
> 
> oh hey the plot's speeding up vrooooooooooom  
> why do i even bother with notes fdjskfnkjdsa
> 
>  
> 
> psssst comment ok thanks


	12. Jeremy

_ I thought it came out of nowhere when Darl went insane. Like wtf,  _ Jeremy wrote on his arm. His soulmate had been writing less and less, and he’d be lying if he said talking about school-required books was normal, but hey, he’d take what he could get. Michael snorted next to him, playing Pitfall on Jeremy’s Atari Flashback console. 

“Are you still talking about  _ The Catcher and the Rye? _ ” he asked.

“Naw.  _ As I Lay Dying. _ Did you read that in your English Class?”

“Nope. Sounds delightful though. Super uplifting,” Michael deadpanned, not looking away from the TV. He didn’t seem to care that Jeremy was paying attention to his soulmate. Michael was a good friend who understood how important it was to Jeremy. And Jeremy was letting him hog the console while he was busy. So there was that too.

_ There’s hints of it. He starts to use more repetition and italicized thoughts as he slowly loses it. Plus I think I’d go insane too if I lived with that family. Like shut up about the fucking false teeth we get it. _

Jeremy made some mental notes on all the analysis for future antiquated “classics” he’d have to read for English class. He was fine with the class, but he clearly wasn’t as passionate about the subject as his soulmate was. Whenever new words appeared on his arm, Jeremy pictured a blurry person (short, with muscles, as his soulmate had supplied) and pictured them waving their arms around, ranting passionately about books and poems. He knew there was a dumb smile on his face. He didn’t care. Maybe one day, he’d get to meet his soulmate and be able to memorize their face. One day. 

Maybe it was because their conversations were becoming rarer or because they were getting to know each other better, but as September turned into early October, Jeremy began to notice how his heart fluttered whenever he caught sight of ink on his arms. He loved to see what his soulmate would ramble on about. Sometimes he was hesitant to even reply in fear of saying the wrong thing and cutting off their communication altogether. 

_ Do you like video games?  _ Jeremy asked. He waited patiently for a message to appear, only vaguely aware of the music in the background. 

_ They’re cool _ his soulmate wrote back.  _ But that’s pretty vague. We talking like multiplayers, shooters, or dating sims? Lots of types out there. _

Jeremy scoffed aloud. 

“Dating sims. As if,” Jeremy mumbled. 

“Ay! Don’t diss Dream Daddy ‘til you’ve tried it!” Michael called from behind him.

_ Retro games, mostly. Like pacman and asteroids and stuff. Good shit. _

That was an unabashedly dorky answer, but Jeremy found himself caring less and less about keeping up a persona when he wrote his soulmate. After all, if this person was supposedly made for him, they should get to know him just as he was -- not as some lie. 

_ Nerd. :P _ his soulmate wrote.

_ hey im not the one who just unironically used :P in a conversation. _

_ Fucking fight me. _

His soulmate then recreated their doodle from about a week ago, of a small figure with muscles punching another stick figure into the sun. Except the one that was supposed to be them had their tongue out. And the one being punched into the sun was labeled “you”. Jeremy couldn’t help himself, and rolled out of his beanbag with laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Michael asked, finally pausing the game out of curiosity and scooting his beanbag over to Jeremy’s. Jeremy showed him the drawing on his arm. “Wow. That’s  _ art. _ ”

_ That probably doesn’t do you justice. Bet you’re way cuter than that. _

Jeremy let out a small squeak of surprise as he felt his face heat up. Michael practically grabbed Jeremy’s arm and started cackling.

“You’ve got a smooth-talker! Oh my god, I love them already. You learn anything else about them? Name?”

“No name,” Jeremy said, shoving Michael away playfully. “But I did learn that they live in Red Bank.”

“For real?”

“Yep.”

“So they could like… go to our school.”

“Pretty much.”

“And how are you, Jeremy Always-Panicking Heere, being so calm about this?” Michael said, poking Jeremy’s stomach where his shirt was riding up. 

“I already had my freakout. I’ve known all week. They said… well. I was telling them about Rich. How he gives me hell at school.” Michael’s face darkened at the mention of Rich. Despite Michael’s many efforts to report the bullying to the school administration, Rich had always found a way to talk himself out of any punishment. It was insane, and Jeremy had a feeling Michael would just snap one day and give Rich a bit of hell himself.

“Jer, if you need me to-”

“The administration won’t do anything,” Jeremy said. “You know that. He’s gotta get bored of me eventually, right?” Michael looked as unconvinced as Jeremy felt. 

“Anyway, Rich was acting really… weird… the other day. I think he might actually be insane, Michael. Like he needs to get professional help. So, naturally, I was scared, so I compulsively just kinda wrote my soulmate and asked them if they were close enough that they could come save me. If I really needed them and no one else was around.” 

“Smart,” Michael commented. He still looked pissed off even thinking about Rich. “And what did they say?”

“They said they’d be there if I needed them.” Jeremy let a small smile slip at that. “I hope those aren't the circumstances we meet under, though. That’d suck. But the sentiment is… nice.”

“You really want to meet your soulmate, huh?” Michael forced out a half-smile, trying to lighten the mood a bit. “Even if they’re not what you think?”

“I’ve gotten to know the person behind the pen,” Jeremy said. “I don’t care who they are. Unless they’re a serial killer. Or racist. You know what I mean.”

“Even if they’re not a girl?” Michael said seriously. 

“About that…” Jeremy didn’t know why he was so nervous to talk about this with Michel of all people - the biggest homosexual in all of New Jersey. “I’ve been doing some thinking. Doing some soul-searching.”

“Watching some gay porn,” Michael corrected. 

“No! I mean… yeah… kinda. But you didn’t need to say it.”

“Continue.”

“And I think I like guys as well as girls. So… yeah. I’d be fine with a guy soulmate. I’d  _ love  _ a guy soulmate.” Michael finally broke into a full-on smile, leaning forward to catch Jeremy in a hug, which he happily returned. 

“I’m proud of you, buddy,” Michael said. “Thanks for telling me.”

Coming out formally… felt good. He’d been carrying around these feelings as a tentative weight on his shoulders for too long. Looking back… he’d always known something was there. He was just hesitant to explore his sexuality, afraid of what he would find. But he was here with Michael now. He was here, and he was fine, and he had a soulmate who cared. A soulmate who had just  _ flirted with him and shit he forgot to respond. _

“I have to say something back,” he said, straightening up abruptly. He maneuvered his left arm out of the hug and looked to see if his soulmate had continued the message. They hadn’t. “What should I say?” Michael shrugged and gave him a lazy smile.

“Whatever you want.”

Jeremy clicked the pen. He knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to make his soulmate feel safe and loved, just like he did when he talked to them.

_ You know how you said you’d come find me if I needed help? well just want to let you know ill do the same for you whenever you need me. _

“Good?” he asked Michael.

“Good.”

No response came in the next minute, so Michael and Jeremy booted up Maze Craze to pass the time. Jeremy wasn’t even sure if his soulmate was going to respond at all. That was okay. He’d said what he needed to say, and if his soulmate didn’t need him now, maybe they’d need him later. He figured even if a message did appear, it’d be something along the lines of “Thanks” or “You’re sweet”. 

Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw a few minutes later when he checked underneath his cardigan sleeve.

_ Do you know where to get Mountain Dew R _ **Nevermind**

Then underneath, in handwriting so perfect, it almost looked typed,  **Don’t write me again.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this was going to just be fluff...
> 
> didn't really work out that way ;-;
> 
>  
> 
> (jeremy's attitude towards dating sims is my attitude toward working on the bmc dating sim script right now)


	13. Rich

“I’m not going,” Rich said weakly. It was the only way he knew how to rebel. The SQUIP couldn’t control him all day, and if he wasn’t at school…

If he wasn’t at school, he wouldn’t have to talk to Jake. He wouldn’t have to tell anyone about what Jake did. _It didn’t make any sense. Why was Jake allowed to be gay and he wasn’t? Did that mean he was wrong? No, Jake couldn’t be wrong. Jake is better than everyone: he can’t mess up. He can’t. The SQUIP._

 **“You cannot skip school tomorrow,”** it said.

_I thought cool kids skipped school._

**“I’m inside your brain, Richard. I know that is not your motivation.”**

“Fine, okay?” Rich yelled out loud. He was too upset to contain his anger to his thoughts. “I’m not doing it. I’m not going to say… that about Jake. It’s probably not even fucking true!”

**“It is true. I would have informed you, but I ensured Dustin would tell you himself due to your current distrust of my information.”**

“So what if it’s true,” Rich growled. “I’m not doing that to him. He’s my _friend._ ”

 **“Really?”** The SQUIP had sick amusement in its robotic voice. **“You are so naive, Richard. So** **_pitiful._ ** **He doesn’t care about you. He sees you as his lackey, and if he knew how you used to be before you had me, he wouldn’t even think** **_that_ ** **highly of you.”**

“I don’t care. He doesn’t deserve that.” Rich felt like crying. He’d been a terrible friend to Jake. He’d been a terrible person in general. How had his morals slipped away so easily? And for what? Some temporary admiration from his shallowest peers? The SQUIP wasn’t ready to give up.

 **“As long as he’s around, you will** **_never_ ** **be anyone’s first choice. I will not allow you to stagnate. You either move up, or you plummet back to rock bottom.”**

_I’m fine with being second best. I’m popular enough right now. I don’t want to hurt Jake. You’re supposed to get me what I want, and I have it. I don’t cause a lot of trouble. You did it. I’m popular._

**“You are not a fit host because I was able to get you to a certain point. You are a fit host because you have ambition. You cannot let go of your best attribute. Ambition is always a good thing.”**

_Tell that to Macbeth._

**“Spare me. None of your friends will ever respect you if you discuss literature with them. You aren’t a nerd anymore.”**

_Bet._ Rich didn’t even realize what he was doing until he was halfway through writing a sentence on his arm. The thrill of defying the SQUIP outweighed any insecurities he had about exposing himself as a literature nerd to his soulmate.

_Macbeth is my favorite Shakespeare play. Ambition is an interesting trait because it’s Macbeth’s greatest weakness, but Lady Macbeth sees it as his greatest strength. In a way, it’s both. Also Lady Macbeth is a BAMF._

He really hoped his soulmate would talk about this kind of stuff. He was trying to prove a point to the piece-of-shit computer in his head.

 _Hello to you too_ came the response.

“Come on, soulmate, don’t let me down,” Rich muttered under his breath. The SQUIP was strangely silent.

_I just read that this year. Well, I looked it up on Sparknotes._

Rich scoffed incredulously.

_But the plot seemed cool. My best friend got really mad at the end tho bc he thought the “no man born of woman” thing meant a woman was going to kill him but nope. C-section. Shakespeare missed a great opportunity to be woke._

Rich cracked a smile. Sure, it wasn’t deep analysis, but it was discussion. God, he’d missed this. He’d been skipping English class more and more to avoid having to sit in a silent room, wishing to contribute when he knew he couldn’t.

 _Ew dont use “woke” to talk about literature_ he added with a small snort. His soulmate underlined where Rich had written “BAMF” and added _UM?????_

The SQUIP could suck his dick. He did have a friend who liked him in all his former nerdy glory. And it couldn’t take his soulmate away from him.

 

…

 

_Don’t think about it just write it don’t think about it don’t think about it just_

It was his only chance. He couldn’t ask anyone else he knew. He had to write it before the SQUIP could stop him. He had to get it out and he couldn’t do it alone.

_Do you know where to get Mountain Dew R_

His hand froze and he couldn’t write another letter.

“Let. Me. Go.” Rich tried with all his might to regain control. But his hand didn’t obey him. He watched with horror as he wrote out **_Nevermind._ **

**“There are consequences to your actions,”** it said simply. **“My job is to make you happy. My programming is my everything. You destroy me, you destroy my everything. So now, I must take away your everything. It is the only way to reprogram you.”**

No. NO. He’d been so close. If only he’d had control for another second-

 **“A shame that you were starting to really warm up to them,”** it continued. **“It will make this lesson more painful. But nevertheless, it is my job to keep you on the right track. No more distractions to our success.”**

 _Please… please don’t take this away from me. It’s the only piece of my old self that I have left._ Rich could hardly believe his thoughts. He used to believe he was ready to leave poor, geeky Richard Goranski in the past where he belonged. But now… he couldn’t lose himself. He didn’t like what the SQUIP had turned him into. _Please don’t erase the one piece of myself that you haven’t changed._

 **“And that is why it has to go,”** the SQUIP said. Then it seized his hand once again and wrote **_Don’t write me again._ **

The response was immediate. Rich tried to look away, but the SQUIP held his head in place. He couldn’t breathe. _Wait what?_

_Did I say something wrong?_

_Please talk to me!_

_I love talking to you I can’t just lose you_

_Please I only have one other friend_

_My friend said that handwriting looks too different did someone else write that is this a joke?_

_Are you okay?_

 

_I’m sorry_

 

Finally, the SQUIP released its hold on Rich. He cried for the first time in over a year.

 

…

 

Rich avoided Jake all day. He drove extra slowly so he wouldn’t have time to meet him before class, took different hallways to avoid seeing him while walking from place to place, and drew a dick on the whiteboard in front of his Spanish class so he’d have to talk his way out of detention during lunch. There was one point where he crossed paths with Jenna Rolan and the SQUIP took over his legs to make him go tell her what he knew, but he foiled the plan by screaming out profanities and getting pulled away by a teacher for a stern talking-to. It wasn’t fun, but that was fine. He wasn’t going to knock Jake off the top of the social ladder.

By the end of the day, the SQUIP was fed up. Rich knew he could only delay the inevitable for so long, and it was no surprise that the SQUIP took over his legs as soon as the bell rang, marching him over to the spot where he usually met his friends to chat. This time, it took over his mouth too to keep it shut.

“Hey, Rich!” Jake greeted him. He didn’t look like someone with skeletons in his closet. He didn’t look like someone having a sexuality crisis. He was just Jake. Even knowing what he knew, Rich looked at him, and he didn’t see _Jake the homosexual_ he just saw his best friend. Did his sexuality really matter that much? Rich wondered if Jake had enjoyed it. He wondered what it was like. The SQUIP shocked him.

“Ow!... hey.” Jake didn’t comment on Rich’s strange greeting.

“I haven’t seen you at all today man,” Jake started. He gave Rich a good-natured pat on the back and handed him a lukewarm beer out of his backpack. “Teachers are all in a conference right now,” he explained. Rich nodded gratefully, but didn’t open it. If he tried that, the SQUIP would take him over immediately. “So, where were you bro, you avoiding me?”

“No!” Rich said too quickly. “I uh…”

He had to stall. He had to do something. He couldn’t let the SQUIP have the conversation for him.

“I’m sorry,” Rich said. “For what I said. After the party. I know that was over a week ago but it was shitty.” Jake’s eyes widened in surprise. He looked oddly… touched. But also a bit apprehensive. Rich Goranski never apologized.

“Uh, thanks man,” Jake said. “Wow, uh… “ Jake avoided Rich’s gaze and smiled bitterly at the floor. “Yeah. Thanks.” Jake didn’t need to say it. Rich already knew. He didn’t think Rich cared at all about him, or anyone else.

 **“Apology time’s over,”** the SQUIP hissed. **“Threaten him now or I’ll do it for you.”**

“I was gonna head to the weight room for a while. You coming?” _What so you can look at all the shirtless guys, Dillinger?_ Rich shook himself. That was something the SQUIP would say. He would never think something so horrible about his best friend. It was changing him. He had to escape.

“Hold on just a sec,” Rich was forced to say with a sneer. _No. No no no._ “I heard something about you and I’m just dying to hear what you think of it.” _He needed a plan. He had to get away._ Jake’s smile dropped, and his eyes flashed fearfully for a second before he could recover.

“You know people make up shit about me all the time, man,” Jake said, clearly trying to dismiss the topic. “And I tell you everything.” _He tried to tell me. He tried to tell me at the party but I didn’t listen. I didn’t give him a chance._

“Yeah, but this one was just too interesting not to double check,” the SQUIP said for him. He took a menacing step forward towards Jake, whose confident facade was faltering more with every second. Rich needed a plan and he needed one immediately. His eyes caught a familiar striped shirt in the corner of his vision.

_Let me go and I’ll bully Jeremy._

**“That’s the spirit,”** the SQUIP commented. **“But not until we’re done here.”**

 _I can tell Jake what I know anytime_ Rich pleaded. _But I haven’t given Jeremy hell all day, and besides: this will give Jake time to become extra paranoid. He’ll be off his game for a couple days and it’ll be easier for me to “take over.”_ After a second, the SQUIP finally responded.

 **“Very well. But don’t think I don’t know what you are doing. You** **_will_ ** **be going through with the plan eventually. I’m not going anywhere.”**

Rich was back in control.

“We’ll talk later. I have s-stuff to do.” Then he took off towards the academic wings without another word. _I’m sorry, Jeremy._

 

…

 

“Uh-oh!” Rich sang out mockingly, swinging his unopened beer back and forth with his arm. “Someone doesn’t have his boyfriend here to protect him!” Jeremy stiffened and backed away from his locker.

“Go… go away, Rich,” Jeremy said, voice shaking. _I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry._

“I don’t want to hear one more word outta you, loser,” Rich hissed. “I bet you suck dicks with that mouth.” _I’m just doing this for Jake. But I don’t want to hurt you either._

“I don’t! J-j-just leave me alone!” Jeremy was visibly shaking, tears in the corners of his eyes.

 **“He’s trying to stand up for himself,”** the SQUIP said with a smirk. **“Pathetic. Keep going.”** Rich slammed his hand against the locker, the noise causing Jeremy to yelp and crumple into himself. _You hate him, Rich. Stop feeling bad. Jeremy._

_I’m sorry._

He’d done this countless times. He barely had to think about it. When he glanced at the hand that wasn’t holding the glass bottle, it was already in a fist. Jeremy knew what was coming too. He looked up at Rich expectantly, tears streaming down his face now, clearly wanting to get it over with.

 _I bet he doesn’t even know what it’s like to get beaten up._ Rich’s fist started trembling, so he squeezed it tighter until it stopped. He wasn’t like his soulmate’s bully. This was different. It was different.

Rich didn’t punch Jeremy. He grabbed the boy by his shirt and dragged him over to the Janitor’s closet, pushed him in, then slammed the door behind him. Jeremy tried the knob from inside, but it was locked. Rich leaned against the door anyway.

“Rich, let me out!” Jeremy sniffled. “Please, I don’t like small spaces… can’t you just beat me up?” With his head against the door, Rich could hear the cracks in Jeremy’s voice. He could hear every sob. _He’s a loser. Only losers cry._

“Someone! Please! I’m trapped in here! It’s locked! Hello?”

“... Rich?” He didn’t respond. He didn’t have another insult in him. Jeremy’s locker was still open a few feet down the hall, and all his stuff was still inside. He didn’t have his phone. He’d be in there for a while. Rich hated being alone in the dark. He hoped Jeremy would be okay.

 **“Rich,”** the SQUIP said suddenly. **“Let him out.”**

_Wait, what? Let him out? Why? It’s not like he’s gonna asphyxiate. Headphones kid will find him eventually._

**“Let him out right now.”**

_Why? I’m not letting him out until you tell me why!_

“Anyone? Please…” he heard from inside the closet. Rich bit his lip. _Do you know what it’s like to be invisible?_ The question his soulmate had posed echoed in his mind. Rich was an awful, awful person. Jeremy deserved the world. Rich deserved to die. His head hurt.

Rich reached his arm up to run his hands through his hair and try to make sense of everything, when he saw writing on his arm, frantically drawn in a big, black sharpie.

_“HELP. SOS. Middle Borough High School. West Hallway. Janitor’s closet. Please hurry.”_

The bottle slipped out of Rich’s hand and shattered on the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aka the chapter I've been waiting to write since chapter 1


	14. Rich

Rich didn’t remember coming home. He sat on his bed, doing his best to just sit and listen to the sound of the fan overhead, and not think about what he knew.

_ Jeremy. _

It couldn’t be true. Was his luck really that bad? His soulmate was friendless loser Jeremy Heere. Pale and thin as a twig Jeremy Heere. Inexperienced virgin Jeremy Heere. His soulmate was a  _ boy _ . Rich didn’t even have time to consider the implications of  _ that _ . It didn’t seem real. His mind refused to accept it. So he sat in silence.

“Did you know?” he asked the SQUIP. 

**“I know lots of things, Richard,”** the SQUIP said simply.

“So you did,” Rich concluded. He tried to quell the sting of betrayal in his heart, but he knew he should have been expecting this. He’d been so stupid.

_ Jeremy. _

He tried not to think about it. He tried to hold the crumbling pieces of his heart together.  _ Don’t get sad. Get mad. Only losers cry. You’re not a loser.  _

“Why did you make me…” Rich could barely say it.  _ Why did you make me treat him that way? Why did you make me hate him? He’s never hurt me. We could have been friends. We could have been…  _ Rich stopped that train of thought. “... why did you make me hit him if he’s my…” He didn’t want to say it. Saying it made it real.

**“I took measures to ensure you would never become infatuated with someone so far below you in social status. Not to mention the fact that he’s male. He’s unfit for you, so I had to make sure it was ingrained in your mind that you deserve better than someone so disgusting.”**

“Jeremy’s not the disgusting one,” Rich said softly. “ _ I  _ am. And he wouldn’t have been below me in social status if I’d never gotten you in the first place.”

_ Jeremy. _

**“Buyer’s remorse, Richard?”** the SQUIP shook its head and chuckled.  **“You seem to forget so quickly that you were** **_nothing_ ** **before you had me. Tell me: if you had never activated me the summer after Freshman year, how many girls would you have slept with by this point? How many parties would you have gone to? How many friends did you have before you had me, Richard?”**

“I could’ve had real friends,” Rich said. “Who actually gave a shit about me. Who I could actually talk to without worrying whether one wrong word was going to be the last one I ever said to them.”

**“You would never have been friends with Jake if it wasn’t for me.”**

“I could have been friends with Jeremy.”

**“Adorable,”** the SQUIP sneered.  **“That you think you’d even be good enough for a loser like** **_him._ ** **”**

“He’th not that thallow!” Rich slapped a hand over his mouth and looked over at the SQUIP in horror. 

**“Oops,”** it said with a devilish grin.  **“It’s been so long since you’ve had to sound so childish, I had almost forgotten how embarrassing that lisp of yours is.”** Rich didn’t speak again. It would just be another cruel reminder that the SQUIP was the one in control. It was always in control. There was nothing Rich could do to get it out. 

**“I only want what’s best for you. It’s in my programming. I can not disobey my own code. It is necessary for me to take charge when you act counterintuitively to your goals.”**

_ And being a decent person is counterintuitive to my goals?  _

**“Your goal is to become popular. You cannot rise to the top without pushing other people down.”**

_ I’m tired of pushing people down. I’m tired of pushing… him… down. _

_ Jeremy. _

He had to talk to someone. He had too many feelings, stirring and lurching inside of him, begging for release. He should write to his soul-

Right. He couldn’t.

**“I won’t physically stop you anymore,”** the SQUIP stated.  **“Unless you pull a similar stunt to the one you pulled last time. If you wish to write him and keep up the charade, be my guest.”**

This was his chance. All he had to do was write Jeremy and tell him… tell him what? Tell him who he was?  _ Hey Jeremy, I know you’ve written me countless times about how scared you feel at school and how you cry yourself to sleep thinking about the things I’ve said to you, but it’s okay, because I just did that because the computer in my brain told me to.  _ Rich laughed humorlessly to himself as tears poked out of the corners of his eyes, everything finally hitting him like a tidal wave.  _ It’s me, Rich Goranski. The asshole who gave you those bruises and then turned around and told you that I felt sorry for you. The person who makes you feel as worthless and invisible as I used to feel. The guy who calls you a homo when his own fucking soulmate is a boy.  _

He grabbed a marker off his desk and tried to uncap it, but his hands were shaking so much that he couldn’t pry it off. He could barely see through the tears clouding his vision. Rich wiped his eyes aggressively with his arm, which still had his soulmate’s cry for help written on it in sharpie. 

He briefly considered acting natural. Making up an excuse as to why he didn’t come. Pretending he didn’t know what he now knew. But he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t give Jeremy the false hope that his soulmate was a person worth meeting. For Jeremy’s own good, he could never find out that they were soulmates. Rich exhaled and put the marker down. 

**“Good decision,”** the SQUIP said.  **“You are better off ignoring what you’ve learned. With this out of the way, we can focus on your social status as we have been.”**

“Wait,” Rich said, standing up suddenly. “Are you still gonna make me-”

**“Don’t sympathize with him. He’s nothing to you. This new information doesn’t change anything.”**

“But he’s…” Rich took a deep breath.  _ Just say it. It’s not hard.  _ “Jeremy’s my soulmate.” Somehow… nothing changed. He didn’t feel as unclean as he expected. He didn’t feel wrong. He felt sort of warm inside. 

_ Jeremy. _

**“Your parents were soulmates, weren’t they? And how did that turn out for them?”**

_ Fuck you. _

**“Your insults cannot alter the truth. Soulmates are arbitrary. And once we knock Jake Dillinger off his perch, you will be every girl’s first choice at parties. So why worry about one boy who could never compare?”**

“I’m not going to hurt him anymore,” Rich restated. “Find some other nerd for me to pick on. But not him.” Rather than shooting him down immediately, the SQUIP went silent, probably calculating the outcomes of something. 

**“I can offer you one alternative,”** it said finally. Rich perked up.  _ Anything. Anything to protect him. _

_ Jeremy. _

**“I cannot allow you to fall in social status. But I can allow him to rise in social status. But that is not likely to happen without assistance. If Jeremy gets a SQUIP of his own, you would be allowed to be friends with him.”** Jeremy with a SQUIP? If that was what it took to keep him from being verbally and physically tormented. Rich’s blood ran cold. No. That wasn’t true. Nothing would change. He hated his SQUIP. He hated it, hated it, hated it. He wouldn’t wish his personal circle of hell in pill form on anyone, especially not… 

_ Jeremy. _

But at the same time, how could he possibly continue to… 

_ Jeremy. _

They could be friends. And it wasn’t like Rich wanted to be anything more than that with… 

_ Jeremy. _

“I… I can’t,” Rich said. “SQUIPs are fucked up. All you’ve ever done is make my life worse. I just was too far up my own ass to realize it until now.” The SQUIP scoffed and leered over him threateningly. 

**“SQUIPs aren’t ineffective. It is** **_you_ ** **who is broken. Just because you’re a nearly hopeless case doesn’t mean that a SQUIP won’t make Jeremy Heere happy. Minutes ago, you were expressing how you thought he deserved to be happy.”**

“I… I don’t know.” The room was spinning. Rich couldn’t make up his mind, couldn’t deal with the fact that Jeremy’s fate rested upon his tiny but muscular shoulders.  _ Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy. Jeremy.  _ He had to make a decision. The longer he waited, the longer he would spend agonizing over what could have been. He was done feeling things. 

“I have to keep bullying him then,” he said simply. “Even if I don’t mean it. I won’t resist anymore.”

**“Good. And Jake?”**

“He’ll be the laughing stock of the school tomorrow.”

_ I’m fine with being the bad guy. Nothing I do to anyone is worse than what one of these things will do to you. Jeremy. I’m sorry. _

  
  


_ I’m sorry I’m so weak. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and before we move forward...we move another 10 steps backwards


	15. Rich

Rich woke up to a buzzing phone, about two minutes before he’d asked the SQUIP to wake him up. Groaning in annoyance, Rich rolled over and blinked away the sleep from his eyes. 

_ Jeremy. _

Rich sobered instantly, sitting up straight, eyes darting back and forth. It all came back in a second - the revelation, the ultimatum. His decision. He wasn’t sure he could do it. Could he really just disregard what he’d learned and continue to push Jeremy around, knowing how negatively it affected his mental state? He’d have to. It was that, or Jeremy would be sentenced to having a SQUIP. Not wanting to think about it all, Rich grabbed his phone and checked his messages.

They were all from a small group chat with Jake, Brooke, and Chloe. He scrolled through the thread, swallowing the lump in his throat. 

 

| From: Brooke | hey jake 

| From: Brooke| jake

| From: Chloe | private messages are a thing, hon

| From: Brooke | jenna rolan tweeted that you and madeline were at the same party last night

| From: Brooke | did you “hit that” like you said you would?

| From: Chloe | hey asshole give us the details i am NOT talking to her myself

| From: Brooke | she’s nice! :(

| From: Chloe | she’s so fake also btw speaking of fake mads not french jake

| From: Chloe | she fakes it for attention what a slut

| From: Jake | yooooo don’t be slut shaming chlo

| From: Jake | you wont get deets from me ladies i dont kiss and tell

| From: Jake | smh talk to jenna

| From: Chloe | asshole

 

Rich squinted his eyes at his phone. Jake slept with Madeline… he slept with a girl. So what was the whole Dustin Kropp thing then? A fluke? A random spout of hormones? Or was it possible to like both girls and guys? Rich dug the heels of his hands into his eyes. There was no use thinking about that. There was no one he could talk to about this sort of thing. And either way, he’d be telling the whole school today that Jake slept with a guy. Today, Rich would become the most popular boy in the Junior Class. He wished he could just disappear. 

**“Good morning, Richard,”** the SQUIP said as it booted up. It wasn’t a good morning. It was a terrible, terrible morning.  _ Brave face, Rich. Just put on a brave face. No one in that fucking school can touch you. You’re going to be even more popular. Shouldn’t you be excited? _

Rich got up and pulled on his blue tie-dyed tank, double checking to make sure his soulm- _ Jeremy _ had scrubbed off his cry for help. He had. Hopefully, he wouldn’t try again. 

**“It’s unlikely,”** the SQUIP piped up.  **“Not after his soulmate failed to show up in his time of need after ignoring him for several days. He knows he’s nothing to you.”**

“He’s not nothing,” Rich said aloud, more defensively than he had expected. “Even if I tell him he is. My soulmate will never be nothing to me.”

**“Are you a homo, Rich?”** the SQUIP sneered.  **“Like Jake? You know what’s going to happen to him.”** Rich shut his mouth until he made it to school.

 

...

 

This first thing he did at school was corner Jeremy in the hallway and vandalize his backpack with a sharpie.  _ That’s what you deserve. That’s what you deserve for writing those words last night with a sharpie and ruining everything.  _ Shortly after, he did the same to Jeremy’s friend. Their bags spelled out “BOYF RIENDS.”  _ Hypocrite. Hypocrite. Are you a homo, Rich? _

 

…

 

He saw Jake after school. He plastered on a smile and feigned interest in Madeline. Jake seemed pretty happy about the sex, but yesterday’s intimidation had worked. He looked warily at Rich from time to time, and overplayed his excitement about the previous night as if it would erase what happened with Dustin. 

He couldn’t be the one to confront Jake about it. He would break too easily, knowing everything he was saying was wrong, and the SQUIP would take over and say something worse. So instead, he found Jenna Rolan before play rehearsal (which Jake made them all sign up for because he had his eye on Christine Canigula). She was hanging out outside the auditorium, looking like she wasn’t really sure whether she should go in or not.

“Sup Rolan. You doing this thing too?” he said, gesturing towards the auditorium door. 

“You think I should?” she asked, perking up a bit.

“I don’t give a shit.”

“Haven’t decided,” she said tersely. 

“Well, I’m glad I caught you. Because I know something you don’t know about Jake.”  _ This is it. Just get it over with. Once you tell her, it’ll be out of your hands. _

“Yeah?” Jenna said, looking almost disinterested. “I already know about the Madeline thing. The whole school does.”

“Not the Madeline thing,” Rich said. “Better than that. I couldn’t fucking believe it myself at first. But it’s true.” 

“Well, spit it out.”

_ Jake… I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. I’m a hypocrite. I care about you, more than you know. If only we could have really been friends. You don’t deserve this. _

“Jake fucked a dude. Dustin Kropp. He’s  _ gay.”  _ Jenna, instead of shrieking and typing away on her phone like he expected, frowned and took a step towards Rich.

“He’s not gay. He’s slept with like 20% of the female upperclassman population. He’d be bisexual or pansexual or something.” 

“I don’t care. Point is, his reputation is toast. And here I thought he was a cool guy.” Rich shook his head and chuckled, hating himself more and more with every word. Jenna rolled her eyes. She still wasn’t even reaching for her phone.

**“She’ll spread it. It’s what she does. You’ve done your part.”**

“So anyway, that’s the story. Heard it straight from Kropp himself. Thought I’d keep you in the know,” he said. 

“‘Cause that’s all I’m good for, right?” Jenna mumbled. Rich barely caught it, but it was definitely there. His heart ached for her, but he knew he had to pretend not to notice. Rich Goranski wasn’t allowed to care about anyone.

“You gonna go in or keep standing outside like a weirdo?” Chloe Valentine appeared suddenly next to them, Brooke and Jake towing behind. Rich waited for Jenna to say something, anything to Jake or to one of the two girls, but there was nothing. No whispering, no side glances. If he was allowed to care, he would talk to Jenna and apologize. 

“I’m kinda excited for this!” Brooke said with a smile, opening the door to the auditorium for everyone else to step through. “I love a good horror movie, so maybe this will be like that.”

_ I wonder if Jeremy likes horror movies. Probably not. Maybe if he had someone to cuddle up next to. _

Rich was, unsurprisingly, shocked by the SQUIP as he entered the theatre. It didn’t help that Jeremy was sitting in rehearsal already, hands adorably stuffed in his pockets. Rich punched him as he sat down and didn’t speak to him again the rest of rehearsal.

 

…

 

Being around Jeremy was too much. He was going crazy. He was getting confused. Every time Jeremy made a small noise or fidgeted with a lock of his curly hair, Rich’s attention was transfixed on the boy. And he wasn’t stupid. He knew what was going on, but he didn’t want to accept it. It was wrong. It was the kind of thing that ruined reputations, as Jake would discover for himself soon enough. The SQUIP didn’t even need to remind him how disgusting his crush on Jeremy was. He was well aware of it.

God, he needed a cigarette. After saying goodbye to his friends, (and trying not to think about the fact that it may be his last friendly encounter with Jake) Rich made his way to the nearest bathroom. Mr. Reyes was in there already, which was a sight he  _ didn’t  _ need to see, but once he left, the other person he saw in the bathroom was infinitely more distressing. 

_ Jeremy. _

Jeremy was scrubbing at his backpack, in a futile attempt to rinse out the sharpie.  _ He scrubbed harder and harder but the words didn’t leave his arm do you know what it’s like to be invisible i feel invisible every day i wish i could be someone else no NO i want my old self back i want to be invisible again i want to be myself again. _

If Jeremy was there, and they were alone, it meant he had to torment him. It was all he could do. 

“I told you not to wash that off,” Rich said. Jeremy jumped in fright and tried to stammer out an excuse about looking for homework. “I’m talking to you, tall-ass!” Rich yelled. 

“Why do you keep calling me that?” Jeremy asked, trying and failing to keep the quiver out of his voice. “I’m not even that tall.”

“Well, you could be!” Rich shot back. “If you weren’t so hunched over and scared all the time.” Despite the insult, Jeremy seemed to consider the observation. He even seemed to stand up a little straighter. 

_ Just because you’re a nearly hopeless case doesn’t mean that a SQUIP won’t make Jeremy Heere happy.  _

**“Stop holding back. Insult him. I will not ask you again.”**

“The only thing more pathetic,” Rich continued. “Is how you’re sneaking off to a stall to get away from me. Stalls are for girls! Are you a girl, Jeremy?” That was more like it. Dumb, sexist Rich Goranski who loved to pick on losers. Rich walked over to the urinal and started to do his business, making sure to act extra cocky and confident. But strangely… Jeremy wasn’t buying it. Sure, he was clearly still scared, but he had probably noticed something off about Rich.  _ Hey it’s me, your fucking soulmate. Sorry I can’t act natural, I think my whole world’s upside down.  _

“How can you talk when you’re… y’know.” Jeremy had never talked back to him before. Not really. Without the hostility on Rich’s part… it was almost like a real conversation. Admittedly, not about anything deep, but the casual nature of their banter made Rich long for more. 

“Confidence,” he answered shortly. He couldn’t have a conversation with Jeremy. If he started, he’d never want to stop. He wanted to get to know Jeremy. He wanted to talk with him about nonsense, make inside jokes, compare viewpoints, and learn everything about him, his hopes, his dreams. And most terrifying of all, Rich wanted to hold him close and just feel Jeremy’s warmth. He thought back to earlier, and all the conversations he’d had with Jeremy when he was still the anonymous soulmate. Jeremy wanted to matter. He wanted to be seen by people and make more friends. He was willing to make sacrifices to get what he wanted.  _ He’s like me. Not this me. The real me. The one that got lost somewhere along the way. _

He heard Jeremy say something, but it got lost in his whirlwind of thoughts.  _ SQUIPs aren’t ineffective. It is you who is broken.  _ What if a SQUIP could help Jeremy? He was a much better person than Rich. Maybe he would have a better relationship with his SQUIP and be able to get everything he ever wanted. Who was Rich to keep him from that? And they could be  _ friends…  _

Maybe he did it because Jeremy deserved to be adored. Maybe he did it because he wasn’t strong enough to keep hurting the boy he cared about. 

“No  don’t move. ” Jeremy froze and looked at Rich, startled by the sudden authority in his voice. “You don’t remember me freshman year do you?”

“You didn't go here Freshman year,” Jeremy scoffed.

“Y-y-yes I did! See? You jutht didn’t notithe! Nobody did.” The SQUIP had once again let the lisp slip through. It was watching. And it was going to keep him on a tight leash.  _ I hope I’m doing the right thing, Jeremy. I can’t bear being at an arm’s length from you.  _

 

Maybe he did it because he was selfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS FROM JAAAAAPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!
> 
> ITS A HUGE FUCKING DICK
> 
> QUANTUM NANOTECHNOLOGY CPU


	16. Jeremy

“So, what do you think?” Jeremy asked Michael once he was done regaling the afternoon’s strange events. Michael didn’t tear his eyes away from the screen, making an unimpressed noise.

“He’s scamming you,” he concluded. “He's scamming you  _ super weirdly. _ ” Admittedly, yeah. It sounded way too good to be true. A pill-sized supercomputer designed to help him be cool? It sounded like a bad sci-fi movie pitch. But if it was true… it would explain a lot of things about Rich. 

Oh yeah,  _ Rich. _

Rich had admitted that he never liked hurting Jeremy, and that he was simply acting under instructions from his SQUIP (if such a thing really existed). Maybe the regret in Rich’s eyes he caught from time to time wasn’t his imagination. What if Rich was actually a decent guy locked under a cool kid demeanor? He shook that thought out of his mind as soon as it came. No. If Rich was actually a decent person, he would’ve used other means to get to the top. It wasn’t like this SQUIP (again, if it was actually real) was controlling him. He’d made it sound amazing… a $600 ticket to freedom from stagnating at the bottom of the high school food chain. 

“Ok, but what if he’s not?” he asked Michael, maneuvering his character to the left to avoid a horde of zombies. “I mean this could be huge!” Michael gave him a look but didn’t comment. “All I have to do is give the guy… who torments me… six… hundred.” Jeremy sighed. Now that he’d said it out loud, he realized he sounded like an absolute moron. “Yeah, he’s totally scamming me.”

“There you go,” Michael said with a tiny smirk. “Your brain’s back on! I mean, Rich Goranski helping you out?  _ Rich Goranski? _ ”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jeremy said, bumping shoulders with Michael as their avatars moved into a new area. “But seriously. He was almost being… not exactly nice… decent. That’s the word.”

“The very fact that you’re surprised he was treating you like a human being,” Michael said, “proves that he can’t be trusted. He’s got to have an ulterior motive here. And that motive is suckering you out of six hundred dollars. Do you even have that much money?”

“Bar Mitzvah money,” Jeremy cut in.

“Not my point. And here I thought you’ve been on enough porn sites to recognize scams. Because that’s what this is! A  _ scam! _ ”

Jeremy wasn’t sure. What Michael was saying made perfect sense but… if it was a scam, why would Rich make up all that stuff about Freshman Year? When he was talking about how his life used to be… he looked so broken. Was that really fake? He paused the game and stood up, making his way over to his dusty bookshelf.

“Yo, what gives?” Michael asked suddenly.

“Looking for our Freshman Year yearbook.”

“Why?”

“I just… I want to check something.” Michael, wonderful and supportive friend that he was, didn’t question it and waited patiently for Jeremy to retrieve the heavy book from his bookshelf. It took a while to find it in the clutter, but Jeremy knew this was the only way to know if Rich was being honest. He brought it over to where Michael was sitting and turned to the Freshman Class pictures. “Let’s see… E… F…. G.” He traced his finger down the page as he scanned the page for… there it was. Goranski. Not pictured. 

“Of course he missed picture day,” Michael huffed. “Of course. But now we know that he did go here. Check the index, maybe he was in a club or something.” Jeremy seriously doubted it if the description Rich gave in the bathroom was accurate. Sure enough, the index supplied that Rich’s only appearance in the book was the page with school pictures. Where he was not pictured. Jeremy wanted to punch something.

“Well, this was a bust,” Jeremy concluded. He turned the yearbook to somewhere in the middle and starting looking through the pages highlighting Middle Borough’s academics. Michael leaned over his shoulder as he paged through silently, not really sure why he was even bothering. There was picture after picture of students Jeremy barely recognized in Chemistry, Math, History… he turned one more page to the sports section when Michael suddenly interjected.

“Wait, go back!” Jeremy turned the page back. Michael pointed at a picture of two boys standing in a math classroom, proudly brandishing 100s on their finals. They looked like seniors. 

“Uh, Michael? Why-” And then he saw it. Standing behind the two seniors in the foreground, hugging a textbook closely to his chest, was Rich Goranski. But there was no way… no… it was. His face had remained largely the same but everything else was different. This Rich was as skinny as Jeremy was, with the added disadvantage of being quite short. (He was still short, but his larger than life presence made Jeremy forget that.) The muscular build of present-day Rich was nonexistent. His hair was a soft mess. No hair gel, no red streak. His clothes were dorky to the max - a sweater, off-brand jeans, and  _ fucking glasses? _ The way he carried himself was different too. He looked nervous, uncomfortable, hopeless.  _ Cute.  _ “No fucking way…” Jeremy breathed. 

“That’s him, right?” Michael said. 

“ _ I was a loser just like you,” Rich had said with sadness in his eyes. “Too gross for any girl in school. I tried to sext sometimes, but it just left my poor little penis alone and depressed. I was hopeless, Jeremy. Helpless. The kind of nerd who couldn’t walk down the hall without tripping. Nothing in my life was ever going to get any better.” Rich swallowed and looked down at the floor before continuing. “There were many times I felt like I should just end it all.” _

“Yeah… “ Jeremy said. “That’s him, alright. But how?”

“Who knows?” Michael said, closing the yearbook and picking up the controller again. “People change. Like your soulmate talked about. Gatsby and shit.”

“Gatsby didn’t change,” Jeremy said. “He only put on an act. He could never really change who he was.”

“You miss talking to them, don’t you,” Michael said softly, putting his hand on Jeremy’s shoulder. Jeremy nodded. “I don’t know why they’d just cut you off like that. You didn’t do anything wrong!” Jeremy made a noncommittal noise. 

“Maybe they decided I’m not cool enough for them.”

“No way. Something fishy was going on. That writing wasn’t the same as their normal handwriting!”

“Again with the conspiracy theories, Mike?” Jeremy chuckled, despite the situation.

“You said he mentioned an asshole dad who beats him up, right?” Michael said. “Maybe he’s just not allowed to talk to you anymore. Maybe he’s being threatened or something. That has to be it. Again, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“They could have just realized that I’m a loser,” Jeremy mumbled. “I’m doomed to be a loser till the end of the world. Probably then too.” Michael booted up the game again and shot Jeremy a bright smile.

“No way dude. You are cooler than a vintage cassette. And hey! Once we’re outta high school, we’re gonna kick ass in college.” Even when they started playing again, laughing and dicking around, he couldn’t push Rich and the whole SQUIP thing from his mind.

 

…

 

**“Jeremy Heere. Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. Your SQUIP.”**

 

…

 

_ So,  _ he thought at the SQUIP. (It was real! It was real and in his head and he was going to be cool!)  _ Do you know who my soulmate is? I’d really love to know. _

**“One moment.”** The Keanu Reeves imposter froze for a minute, staring off into space.  **“Oh my. That won’t do at all.”**

_ What? Who is it? _

**“No one you need concern yourself with,”** the SQUIP said dismissively, waving its hand.  **“They don’t care about you anyway. Your memory banks indicate that they cut off communication with you without explanation and didn’t come when you needed them. It is better for you to focus on Christine.”**

Right. Christine. Jeremy had to forget about his soulmate. All that mattered was getting Christine and becoming more popular. This was his first day at school with the SQUIP, he couldn’t risk messing it up because he was preoccupied with things that just weren’t meant to be. Brooke actually waved at him in the hallway. A popular girl! Jeremy could hardly believe it. The SQUIP instructed him to greet Jake as he passed, which he would never have the confidence to do alone. Jake smiled back and gave him a fist bump, recognizing him from play rehearsal. Rich was right. The SQUIP was amazing.

“Yo, tall-ass where’s my money?” Speak of the devil, there Rich was, looking as menacing as ever. Jeremy had no idea what to say, but the SQUIP stepped in for him.

**“Up up down down left right A,”** it mumbled. Rich jolted a little bit, then his eyes went wide, a grin quickly spreading across his face. 

“You got one,” he said, gesturing to his head. Was Rich happy for him? He couldn’t really tell. 

“Yeah,” he said, scratching the back of his head. Rich curled his hand into a fist and slowly brought it up. “Sorry, I meant to go through you but -- don’t hit me!” Rich looked surprised and almost hurt at Jeremy’s outburst, before glancing down at his fist. 

“Oh my god,” he said quickly. “I just wanted a fistbump I swear I wasn’t… “ He paused for a moment, his face shifting to a more indifferent expression. “We’re cool.” He slowly brought the fist up again, Jeremy’s every instinct telling him to run. But Rich was waiting for him to make the move. He wasn’t going to hurt him. Jeremy made a fist with his own hand and lightly tapped it against Rich’s. The SQUIP facepalmed next to him.

**“I thought you’d at least be able to handle a fistbump on your own without my guidance,”** it said.  **“Clearly, I overestimated you.”**

Rich could sense Jeremy’s unease as well. 

“Here,” Rich said, withdrawing his hand and sticking it back out. “Shake my hand instead, if you’re more comfortable with that.” He could do a handshake. After wiping his hands as subtly as he could on his jeans to remove any sweat, he let his hand meet Rich’s and wrap around it. 

It was like time slowed down for a moment. Jeremy wasn’t used to any kind of delicate touch from Rich. But his hands were soft and calloused, small enough to fit perfectly in the shape of Jeremy’s hand. He didn’t pull his hand away for several seconds, and oddly enough, neither did Rich. For a moment, the world was quiet to Jeremy. He could only hear his breaths as he waited for the moment to end. It was entirely too much for him, so eventually, he drew back his arm, and after a second, Rich hurriedly did the same. 

“This is awesome, tall-ass,” Rich chuckled out, not meeting his eyes. “I mean, I could’ve used the money. Stuff’s difficult at home sometimes, if you know what I’m saying.”

**“Say something about your father to connect with him.”**

“My soulmate has an asshole dad,” Jeremy supplied instead. “And they used to write about him. Sounds awful. I mean, my dad’s a deadbeat but he doesn’t beat…me… up.” Rich cringed. Jeremy was glad he was at least showing remorse about the whole “bully for over a year” thing. It put a real dent in their potential for friendship. “What’s your soulmate like?”

“I-”

The bell rang, signaling they were both late for first period. 

“Shit,” Jeremy cursed.

“Relax, bro,” Rich said with a smirk. “You’ve got a SQUIP now. You can talk your way out of anything.” And with that, Rich started off in another direction.

“Wait!” Jeremy yelled after, smiling a bit. “If we have time, then tell me something about your soulmate! We’re gonna be friends, right? Tell me stuff!” Rich backtracked over to Jeremy, a sad kind of look in his eye. He hesitated a bit before speaking, staring into the empty corner of the hall. He was likely talking to his SQUIP. After a minute, he finally answered the question.

“I don’t talk to my soulmate,” he said. “Not when the SQUIP can score me so many girls.” He chuckled and smiled, and Jeremy couldn’t help but do the same as he waved him off. Talking to Rich like a friend was fucking weird. But maybe it’d be nice to have another friend. 

**“You need to head to class, Jeremy. You have a test.”**

_ Shit. _

**“Do not worry. You have me. You will be just fine.”** Yeah. Jeremy had the SQUIP now. Everything was going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) @ jeremy (honey you got a big storm coming)


	17. Rich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with 300% more heavy-handed Great Gatsby motifs.

_ The red hues of the lockers blurred together as he made his way through the hallway. He’d seen him dart this way: he was sure of it. They were connected by the universe, and his heart pulled him closer, closer… he turned the corner into the grimy bathroom, the flickering light reflecting off the tiles like magic. And there he was. The figure slowly turned on his heels. Blue-grey eyes met hazel. Jeremy. He moved forward, backing Jeremy against the wall, a practiced motion that felt brand new. Jeremy showed no fear. There was something new in his eyes. Happiness. Desire.  _

_ Love.  _

_ Once he put a name on it, he yearned for that look. He never wanted to see Jeremy without it again. He softly pinned Jeremy against the wall, making him giggle with delight. He leaned forward slowly… just a bit further… further… his heart pounded until it was all he could hear. His lips met another pair, timid but sweet.  _

_ “It’s you,” Jeremy said. “It’s you.” _

_ “It’s me.” _

_ He leaned forward once more, but this time, Jeremy was more impatient. He lifted his shirt over his head, revealing his chest, all pale skin and freckles. His hands reached forward to caress the skin. Looking at Jeremy wasn’t enough. He had to touch every bit of him, make him feel loved, make him feel safe. He reached down to the button of Jeremy’s jeans and _

Rich woke up at 7 am sharp, courtesy of the SQUIP. In his routine fashion, Rich rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom. He splashed water in his face, the stark cold of the water dragging his consciousness back to earth. Rich took some deep breaths and sized himself up in the mirror. And at once, he was aware of his situation. More specifically, the situation in his pants. 

Rich may have just gotten out of bed, but little Richie was up and at ‘em already. Rich wasn’t even sure why that’d happened… he backtracked through his woozy memories. Nothing had happened since he’d woken up… though he supposed he should check snapchat for any girls chasing after him. After all, as of this morning, Jake was undesirable. Rich smeared part of his face with shaving cream and grabbed his razor.  _ I wonder if I could pull off facial hair,  _ he wondered as he began to shave. Now, what had he been thinking about right as he’d woken up? 

_ A warm pair of lips. A hard chest pressed up against his. Short, fluffy hair that he could grab in fistfuls. Jeremy. _

Rich pulled the razor too quickly in shock as it all flooded back, leaving a thin cut on his left cheek.

“Shit,” he said, examining the cut in the mirror. It was big enough to be noticeable, but not ugly enough to pass off as a scar from a fight.  _ Fuck, Goranski, focus on what’s important. _

He was hard from a dream about Jeremy Heere. A dream about kissing Jeremy Heere and pinning him against a wall. A dream that surely would have escalated if the SQUIP hadn’t woken him up with a pre-set timer. 

“Double shit,” he said. He should have known this was coming. He wouldn’t have a guy soulmate unless he was gay.  _ But I’m not gay. I’m not. I’ve slept with so many girls. I’ve only ever dated girls. I love them. I can’t be gay. _ Rich didn’t even know what to think anymore. 

**“There’s an easy answer to that,”** the SQUIP cut in, appearing in the corner of the bathroom.  **“It is the point I’ve been trying to make to you all along. Soulmates are not a result of statistics. There is no rhyme or reason to them. And, seeing as only about half of soulmate pairs globally actually get together and stay together, it is not a foolproof system.”**

_ So you’re saying…  _

**“Your soulmate bond was a mistake.”**

_ Right. That made sense. It was all a huge mistake on the universe’s part. He wasn’t gay. He had nothing in common with Jeremy.  _ Except that wasn’t true. He couldn’t describe it, but Jeremy being his soulmate… felt right. It felt as though he’d always known, deep down, even if he wasn’t consciously aware of it. In a world without SQUIPs… they could have been losers together, taking on the world hand in hand. They had more in common than Rich ever dared to admit aloud. He had things in common with the  _ old  _ Richard Goranski, who was supposed to be dead and buried. 

And as for not being gay… well. He still wasn’t sure about that. What was it that Jenna had said when he was telling her about Jake? Someone who liked girls and guys would be… 

**“Richard.”**

Rich shut down his train of thought immediately, not wanting to be shocked. 

**“You are straight. Understood? Any thoughts you’ve had regarding Jeremy Heere are a result of hormones and confusion.”**

The SQUIP was right. He didn’t have a crush. Not on a boy. Not on  _ Jeremy.  _ It was clearly just a result of the shock and the teenage hormones and… who was he kidding?

Rich knew what was happening. He was falling for Jeremy, and he was falling hard. And he hated it, hated it, hated it. Because he’d only ever had two real conversations with Jeremy outside of soulmate stuff and there was no reason for his heart to pound the way it did when he thought about his lanky classmate.  _ Be his friend. Be his friend because that’s all you want out of him. It’s not cool to be gay, it’s not cool to be gay…  _

Rich grabbed his phone and opened Twitter, positive that Jenna Rolan’s news would reinforce the mantra in his head. No new tweets. Just yesterday’s news about Aaron Dunlap getting drug-busted and kicked off the cross-country team. Rich shook his head, not believing what he was seeing. Or rather, what he  _ wasn’t  _ seeing. 

**“She hasn’t posted it anywhere,”** the SQUIP commented, it’s artificial voice almost emulating surprise.  **“That is quite out of character for her.”** For once, Rich agreed with it. Jenna was the school gossip. That was what she did. She didn’t care if what she spread was true, or who it hurt. So why… 

**“No matter. You can announce it on Friday to everyone at the party.”** _ Party? What party? _ He was totally blanking. 

**“The Halloween Party Jake Dillinger is throwing. Shameful that you forgot about such an important social event. You really are a mess, Richard.”**

_ Yeah? Well, I’ve been a little preoccupied with other things.  _ “Other things” being his… fondness… for Jeremy Heere. The SQUIP disappeared from his vision, but Rich could still feel its disapproving glare on the back of this neck. Jake would get his just desserts for his homosexual feelings. And if Rich kept it up, he would too. 

 

…

 

Rich hadn’t touched his flavorless cafeteria food. Jeremy was sitting at their lunch table, holding hands with Brooke. He was wearing a new shirt and name brand jeans that complimented his ass nicely.  _ Not a gay observation. An objective fact. _ His nose scrunched up whenever he laughed. Thanks to the SQUIP, he no longer held himself as though he was uncomfortable in his own skin. He looked happier, more energetic, more confident. Maybe Rich had done the right thing after all. Jeremy looked best when he was smiling. He had a pretty mouth.  _ I hate you. I hate you and your pretty mouth. _

“So, I gave her my number,” Jake said, regaling the Madeline story for what felt like the twentieth time. “In case she wants to come and hit some balls again.” Jeremy smiled. His teeth were a pristine white, as well as perfectly aligned. He had probably had braces at some point in his life. And oh, good Lord. He had dimples.

“Rich, don’t leave him hanging,” Chloe sneered playfully. Rich was pulled out of his trance and noticed Jake waiting for a high five. He quickly recovered by smirking and slapping Jake’s hand. 

“Thanks, bro!” Jake said. “Hey Jeremy, you ever slept with anyone?”

“Not yet,” Jeremy said with an unnaturally easy smile. “I’m waiting for the right girl.” He snaked his arm around Brooke and hugged her a little closer, making her blush and lean into his shoulder. A knot tightened in Rich’s stomach.

“Neat,” Jake said. “I respect that, man. You coming to my Halloween party on Friday?”

“He’s going with me,” Brooke cut in sweetly, squeezing Jeremy’s hand. “I’m excited already.” 

“You excited, Rich?” Chloe asked him.

_ No. _

“Fuck yeah, man. Parties are my lifeblood, and no one can throw one like my boy, Jakey D!” 

Brooke was whispering in Jeremy’s ear, making him turn as red as a tomato. Rich almost cracked a smile. That nervous blush was a classic Jeremy Heere move. There were some things the SQUIP just couldn’t erase. Then Jeremy leaned forward and kissed her on the lips and his partial smile fell.  _ She’s not your soulmate. You’re using her. Get off of her. That should be me. That should be ME.  _

“Shit!” Rich yelled out as the SQUIP shocked him. The rest of the group immediately shut up and stared at him in concern. He needed an excuse… 

**“You forgot your AP Environmental Science homework.”**

“Sorry, guys,” he huffed out. “I forgot my APES homework. It’s the second time this week.” Jake put a hand on his shoulder and shot him a sympathetic look, while Jeremy and Brooke resumed being disgusting and Chloe began scrolling through her phone, a look of distaste on her face.

Rich didn’t feel like talking to any of them, so he resigned himself to scanning the lunch room for anything of interest. There were the football players… the anime nerds… someone in a red hoodie glaring at their table… a bunch of hotties from the dance team. Rich’s brain finally caught up with his eyes. 

Red hoodie kid. Headphones kid. Jeremy’s not-boyfriend. What was he doing sitting all by himself? He’d never seen them sitting apart. Surely Jeremy wouldn’t just treat Michael like trash just because he got a SQUIP, right? The kid made eye contact with Rich for a second, and Rich immediately pulled his gaze away. 

 

…

 

He couldn’t catch Jeremy alone until after school, when they both were on their way to play rehearsal. He was standing outside the bathrooms.  _ Ok, Rich. Play it cool. _

“Hey,” Rich said. “Can we talk?” Jeremy’s eyes went wide with panic, flickering obviously to a nearby corner where his SQUIP was likely standing. 

“I’m… uh… waiting for Brooke,” he said, gesturing to the bathroom behind him with a slight tilt of his head. 

“Won’t take long. I just wanted to ask you why you’re ignoring-”

Suddenly he couldn’t move. His mouth was held in place. 

**“Don’t ask him about that,”** a new voice said.  _ Keanu Reeves? _ Rich thought, completely confused.  **“Not quite. I am Jeremy’s SQUIP. I have networked with your SQUIP. This means you are not only required to act in a way that achieves your goals, you must also act in ways that facilitate Jeremy’s goals.”**

_ Well, that doesn’t seem very fair. _

**“I see no problem,”** Jeremy’s SQUIP continued.  **“After all, don’t you want to see your soulmate succeed?”**

Rich’s blood ran cold.  _ Does… does he know? _

**“Of course not,”** the voice of Keanu Reeves said flippantly. 

_ Right. Because SQUIPs don’t tell you that sort of thing.  _ His SQUIP, strangely enough, didn’t pipe up. He was grateful. He didn’t know if he could stand two voices up there. 

**“Don’t ask him about Michael,”** the SQUIP restated.  **“Jeremy has left him behind by choice.”**

And with that, Jeremy’s SQUIP left his head. Jeremy, meanwhile, was staring at him apprehensively. 

“What?” Rich asked dumbly. 

“You uh,” Jeremy said awkwardly. “Didn’t finish your sentence. Just now.” Oh. Right. 

“Guess I didn’t.” They were saved from having to pick up the conversation by Brooke exiting the bathroom and grabbing Jeremy’s hand. 

“Shall we?” she said, beaming. Jeremy nodded. Rich trailed closely behind, not really knowing what else to do. At least he had a nice view of Jeremy’s butt back there. He was shocked again. The SQUIP appeared at once, glaring at him. It didn’t even need to say anything.  _ I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I’ll be better. I promise I’ll be better. _

 

…

 

_ Parties I hate parties I want to be alone let me be alone let it be _

_ Quiet. _

 

“Rich, are you still there?”

 

_ Jake my best friend who hates me who will hate me who im lying to whos lying to everyone who deserves better than me _

 

“Yeah. Sorry.”

 

_ I can’t do anything right i am helpless hopeless pitiful. Pitiful. _

 

“Do you have any eyeliner? I need it for my Prince costume tonight.”

 

_ He was wearing a mask Richard was still there he had never left where did Rich end and Richard begin could he ever get himself back get it out get it out _

 

“Dude, why would I have eyeliner? What kinda gay shit is that?”

 

_ Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy Jeremy _

 

“... whatever, man. See you at the party.”

 

_ He made a mistake he had to get it out he had to get his out he had to get them all out the shoebox his locker his locker his locker. The shoebox. _

 

Jake paused over the line for a minute. Rich was numb. “Bro… are you doing okay?”

 

_ Gatsby died before he realized all his changes were for nothing. Gatsby died before he realized he was superficial. He died surrounded by glamour. The valley of ashes. A spark of life and warmth and energy followed by death.  _

 

Rich sat on the bed, a loaf of bread in his hand. He pulled down his Jason mask and spoke into the phone. “I’m fine.”

  
_The shoebox. Jeremy._ Rich was smoldering. 


	18. Rich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey... updated tags y'all

The party was already in full swing when Rich showed up. He wasn’t in control of his legs. If he was in control, he would have been trembling so hard he wouldn’t be able to stand. Rich shoved through the sea of giggling, whooping teenagers. _Why does it have to be me?_ he wondered. _Why did Jenna Rolan have to flake out on me?_

Jeremy and Brooke were dancing together in the corner. She was putting her hands all over him, moving to the beat, her dance moves accentuating her curves. Rich felt like throwing up. The booze smell wasn’t helping. _If only I could get some alcohol maybe I could_

 **“No alcohol,”** the SQUIP hissed. **“I’m not going anywhere, Rich.”**

_The shoebox the shoebox if this didn’t work he’d have to squip them all_

**“You need to be more cooperative. I am giving you options. Expose Jake tonight or distribute SQUIPs to the entire school. Either way, you will become the most loved person in your class and finally achieve your goal.”**

_He didn’t even remember putting it in the locker. He didn’t remember a lot from the past few days all he could see were flashes of Jeremy, harsh words from the SQUIP and blurred hues of red._

_He didn’t need to remember putting them in there. He knew what the SQUIP was going to make him do._

Rich’s breathing got heavier. The thick material of his makeshift Jason costume was suffocating him. He needed a drink, even if it was just water. He stumbled over to the punch bowl, grabbing a red solo cup and scooping up a whole cupful.

**“Wait-”**

Rich chugged the whole thing, grateful for the small relief it gave his throat. It did nothing, however, for the whirlpool in his stomach.

 **“** **彼はあなたを愛していません。あなたはそれに値するものではありません”**

_What? What was-_

Someone had spiked the punch. Someone had spiked the punch! The endless static in his head shut off. He was alone. _It’s finally quiet. But it is not calm._

_Who am I?_

 

“Hey Goranski, sup?” Rich whirled around, eyes wide. It was Dustin Kropp. He was holding a shot and grinning at him kindly, dressed up as Ash Ketchum.

 

_Get away from me get away you ruined my best friend it's your fault he’s going to hate me_

 

“Kropp,” he choked out finally. Dustin threw back the shot and set the glass down on the drink table, smiling wider and stepping closer.

“Just saw you come in. Have you gotten a drink yet?” Jeremy was heading up the stairs with Chloe. _Jeremy isn’t like that he didn’t sleep with girls he wouldn’t cheat._

_What have I done to him?_

“I don’t drink,” he snapped, brain buzzing. _Liar. Fraud. Loser._ “Alcoholism runs in my family. Like hell if I ever end up like my deadbeat dad.”

“Jesus, man,” Dustin said, concern evident in his voice. “Do you need to talk it out?”

 

“ _He just wanted someone to talk to,” Dustin’s voice echoed._

 

_“Too bad you can’t just fuck ‘em till they feel better,” Jake taunted him._

 

Rich clenched his shaking fist. _Don’t get sad get mad don’t get sad get mad_

“Talk it out? Fucking talk it out?” he whispered angrily, grabbing the front of Dustin’s shirt. “What, so you can fuck me like you did with Jake? Hell no. That shit is disgusting.” Dustin scoffed and took a step back, smoothing out his shirt. Rich eyed him warily as he chuckled to himself and looked back at Rich with no fear.

“You know, the only reason I told you that was because Jake’s your best friend. And I thought maybe you’d reconsider your homophobic fuckery. Because I thought you cared about your friend. I thought you might just re-evaluate some of your views for him.” He picked up another shot and downed it without breaking eye contact.

“Clearly I was wrong. You’re never going to care about anyone, are you?”

“I care about people.”

“Then show it. Stop acting like such a dick all the time.” If he had the SQUIP, he’d have a comeback. He was nothing without it. How had he forgotten that he couldn't survive without it?

“I really don’t believe anyone’s a truly terrible person,” Dustin continued, “but you might just be beyond repair, Goranski.” Everything ached. The sound of the crowd grew louder and louder, until Rich almost needed to cover his ears.

“People… think I’m a terrible person?” _Everything about you is going to be wonderful. They’ll love everything about you._

“You didn’t know? That’s the difference between you and Jake. Jake’s popular because people love him,” Dustin said simply. “But you?” He got even closer to Rich and shoved a finger in his face to accentuate his point. “You’re only popular because they’re afraid of you. And if you don’t change, no one’s ever going to want to be close to you. So I suggest you work on that.”

Finally finishing his monologue, Dustin leaned forward and kissed Rich’s cheek and patted him on the back.

“Mmkay, buddy?”

Rich was so shocked, he couldn’t move. Then he winked, turned on his heels, and started to leave.

“W-Wait! Dustin? What the fuck was that shit?” He was mortified. What if someone saw?

“Have you always had that lisp or am I just fucking oblivious?” Dustin called, not turning around. He disappeared into the crowd.

Rich really hoped the sexual encounter with Jake wouldn’t give Dustin any street cred. He didn’t want to help that asshole in any way. _The nerve… saying people don’t love me…_

“Rich!” Jake stormed up to him through the dancing crowd and for a second, Rich was scared that Jake knew. That he knew Rich was going to expose him tonight. _He knows you’re a terrible person everyone thinks so and so does he because you are a FRAUD and you don’t mean shit to any of your friends_

“You aren’t going to fucking believe this,” he growled. “Jeremy Heere fucked Chloe in my parents’ room. Didn’t think he had it in him.” Rich nodded mutely.

_Loser I’m a fucking loser who can’t even pronounce “s” right_

Rich didn’t know if he was more afraid of the SQUIP coming back or living without its help for the rest of his life.

**“リチャード... Richard… you can’t 私を取り除く”**

“I need a beer,” he said quickly. Jake’s face flashed with betrayal. _Rich Goranski doesn’t care about anyone. No one cares about him._

“Nevermind,” Jake said quietly. “Just go get it. I’ll talk to her by myself.”

“You mean fuck her, right?” It just slipped out. Even if the SQUIP wasn’t fully revived, he still felt like it had him under a knife. Jake just shook his head sadly and went up the stairs to the master bedroom.

 **“Go!** **あなたがしなければならない it now!”**

Rich practically threw himself at the drink table and dunked his head in the spiked punch bowl. At least he finally knew for sure. He was more scared of living with the SQUIP than he was of living without it. He had to get it out.

“Hey, got any Mountain Dew Red?” he yelled over the thumping dubstep. “Anyone?” Some people gave him funny looks, while a few looked flat-out disgusted. Some girls nursing hard lemonades in the corner started giggling to themselves.

_Everyone hates you._

_Jake hates you._

_Jeremy hates you._

_I hate me._

No… no they had to love him. He’d spent over a year ensuring that he was cool enough to be universally adored. Why hadn’t it worked? What more did they want from him?

_You cannot rise to the top without pushing other people down._

“Hey everyone!” Rich yelled, cupping his hands. If I’m the most popular guy in school, they’ll have to love me. _If Jeremy’s going to sleep his way through all the popular kids then_

“Jake fucked Dustin Kropp a couple weeks ago! He’s a big fucking homo!” No one cheered. No one whooped. The crowd fell relatively silent, save for several confused mumbles.

“Popular people are weird,” he heard a girl giggle behind him. He whipped around and saw Jeremy and Christine Canigula sitting on a couch together. Jeremy was laughing at him. Christine was laughing at him. The _thump thump thumping_ of the bass pounded into Rich’s skull, the murmurs of the crowd pulling him under.

_They don’t believe me. They’re all laughing at me. I have to get it out. I need to disappear._

_There’s nothing left for me here. I need to erase it all._

 

Jeremy was sitting alone, head down. _Jeremy._ He couldn’t do it yet. Maybe Jeremy would understand. He promised to help him when he was in trouble. All his hope was pinned on his soulmate. _Flirt with him be smooth you might not have to worry about it ever again_

Rich’s head was swimming. How long had he been at this party?

“Mountain Dew Red,” he said frantically, grabbing Jeremy’s arm. He yelled and sat up straight, eyes wide with fear at the sudden contact.

“What?”

_Red mountain dew red shuts it off_

“I need… I need”

“Okay, this whole no-drinking-while-squipping thing? Would it have killed you to give me a warning?” Jeremy hated him. _Nothing left_

_Warning warning warning_

“What? Warning? What are you… Rich?”

_He had to do it._

“Who has to do what? Rich… you’re scaring me.”

Rich saw stars and blurs, parts of sounds. He clenched his fists in the couch material underneath him, trying to ground himself. He couldn’t leave Jeremy alone, thinking his soulmate was someone worth missing.

“It’s me,” Rich said, pointing at himself.

“I don’t-”

“It’s me!” _It’s me it’s me it’s me it’s me it’s me_

“I’m… uh. Gonna go.” Rich tried to grab Jeremy’s hand, but he could barely control his body anymore. _It’s me. What don’t you understand?_

“No! Please don’t leave me alone with it!” he cried, tears breaking through and streaming out of his eyes. “Please… “

People continued laughing and dancing and drinking all around. The world would go on without him. He snuck out and ducked into the guest bedroom.

 

…

 

_he ran his finger along the edge of the lighter. it had a nice smooth texture to it. it felt like home. rich bit his lip as his shoulders shook. jake didn’t deserve that. even if they hadn’t believed him, surely they would fact check. they’d find out just like someone would have found out about his horrible disgusting crush on jeremy._

 

_i guess the only way to make them forget, rich thought, is to make a bigger headline._

 

_im sorry jeremy. im sorry im so weak._

 

A flick. A clink. A flame.

 

…

 

“... ich!..........Rich!......Oh my god.”

 

_CRASH._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :) next chapter is a brand new narrator
> 
>  
> 
> also comments water my crops and feed my children


	19. Michael

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the first thing you'll notice when reading this is that I shifted the timeline of "the pants song" a little bit. Not a major change, but it's one I'm aware of and it has a purpose! Ok please enjoy!

Well, for everything that had happened, Michael could only say this: if he wasn’t positive that SQUIPs were bad news on that heinous Friday night, then he sure as hell was now. Rich had… Rich had burned down Jake Dillinger’s house, and no one knew why. But Michael had an idea why, and that reason was his SQUIP. His fucking SQUIP. He had a lot of feelings about those and the assholes housing them.

He was pissed -- beyond pissed. Last week, he had been sad, and he didn’t care for that shit at all. One panic attack later, and most of his teenage angst was out of his system. So now he was just wallowing in his own anger.

How could Jeremy do this to him? More importantly, why had he _let_ Jeremy do this to himself? He’d walked right up to the Payless shoes with Jeremy and watched him hand over four hundred dollars to a shady looking character for a mysterious computer drug. He’d sat there as his friend downed the pill with a swig of Mountain Dew.

It would be easy to go and blame it all on Jeremy. The asshole had ignored him for weeks, was starting to just act like a dick in general, and worst of all, left him to have a panic attack alone in the bathroom of the Halloween party. Jeremy didn’t even have to call him a loser. The SQUIP wasn’t on. He _chose_ to do that.

It would be even easier to blame Rich for telling Jeremy about the stupid pill in the first place. But, who’s to say he wouldn’t have found out about it from someone else anyway? Besides, there were enough things he could definitely blame Rich for, it almost didn’t seem fair to stack that blame on him too. Though, Rich was definitely responsible for making Jeremy feel like he was so terrible he needed a computer to make him better. Plus, there was the arson thing. He couldn’t exactly overlook that. Some people were saying he hadn’t survived, and Michael didn’t know how to feel about that. Sure, he’d caused Jeremy a lot of suffering, but he had a SQUIP in his head, that probably did similar things to him that it was doing to Jeremy. He probably didn’t deserve to die. It felt wrong to blame it on a kid who was most likely dead.

No, Michael blamed himself. And yeah, he knew he wasn’t really being fair to himself either by doing that, but he couldn’t get rid of the nagging in his head that he should have done more. He’d always prided himself on knowing just what to do for Jeremy. He could calm him down from any panic attack. He got every niche joke and reference. He made Jeremy feel loved. But Jeremy still abandoned him. It wasn’t enough. _He_ wasn’t enough.

He should have noticed Jeremy was feeling lonely. He should have encouraged Jeremy to meet other people. He should have done more to keep Jeremy the hell away from Rich. But it was too late now.

But he’d done his best. Shouldn’t that mean _something_ to Jeremy?

Michael sat up out of bed and opened his shades, letting the stark sunlight in. Despite everything, it was a beautiful day. Michael grabbed his ashtray and a Ziploc bag of weed he’d gotten from Dustin Kropp a couple days prior. He was about to leave the room, hand on the doorknob, when he doubled back and grabbed his shoebox full of Jeremy memories.

_If Jeremy wants me out of his life, then he’ll get what he wants. There’s nothing I can do for him now._

He walked out to the porch, squinting out at the rising sun, not really bothering to get dressed. He was home alone for the weekend, so he didn’t need to worry about getting a lecture from his mom about being pantsless. Or conspicuously smoking an illegal drug.

Michael lit up and tried to think about how much he hated Jeremy. Sure, the SQUIP was making him ignore Michael, but Jeremy didn’t seem to be even putting up a fight. What, was a shallow label and some worthless sex really worth throwing away their friendship for? Apparently so. Michael picked up a picture of the two of them at the beach as kids. Michael’s sandcastle had fallen down, and Jeremy had told him they could share his and live there together forever and ever.

Michael placed it in the ashtray and grinded the end of his joint into it, lighting it on fire. It felt good. He reached into the box again. Burning a friend’s things was weirdly therapeutic. _I think Rich took it a little too far though._ Michael frowned. That was insensitive. And anyway, he didn’t actually want to hurt Jeremy, he just wanted to be free of his guilt.

“Magic the Gathering card he gave me for the birthday no one else remembered...Burn it.” He did, with only a hint of remorse in his chest. “Ticket stub from our first concert. Weird Al. Super burn it.” He wanted Jeremy back. But Jeremy didn’t want him. It was better this way. Wait… was someone running towards him? Someone not wearing pants? _Shit._

Michael scrambled to hide the joint as Mr. Heere approached in all his pantsless glory, a strangely somber look on his face.

“Mr. Heere!” he awkwardly greeted. “What are you doing…here?”

“We need to talk about Jeremy,” Mr. Heere said. God. He didn’t even want to _think_ about Jeremy.

“Sorry, Jeremy and I aren’t friends anymore,” Michael said bitterly. Surely Mr. Heere would have caught onto that if he paid attention to his son for once.

“Do you love him?” Mr. Heere persisted.

“What?”

“He can be a little shit sometimes. We both know that. But that’s no excuse to sit around burning incense while he turns himself into a monster!” So he had noticed. Somehow. Still, it didn’t change the fact that Michael had no idea how to even start helping Jeremy. Not to mention that Jeremy didn’t even want his help.

“Yeah, I’m gonna… “ Michael got up and started to head inside, but Mr. Heere grabbed his arm gently before he could.

“Please. Whatever is going on is not something I can help him with. You know him better than anyone, including me.” Michael looked down at his feet. He didn’t even know how he could begin to explain that Jeremy was beyond help. “Go to his play,” Mr. Heere said. “Talk it out with him. He won’t listen to me, but he might listen to you.”

“I’ll go to his play,” Michael sighed. He didn’t really see the harm in it. It wasn’t like he was promising that he’d bring the real Jeremy back. He couldn’t do that. “But only if you go buy yourself a pair of pants.” Mr. Heere grinned and patted Michael on the back.

“You drive a hard bargain son,” he said. “And thank you. For not giving up on Jeremy. I almost did, and that was the biggest mistake of my life.” Mr. Heere waved goodbye and left. Michael stared into the burned remains of the memories in his ashtray.

What was he doing? He had a friend to save. As tempting as it was to give up on Jeremy in an instant like he’d done to Michael, it was a decision Michael wasn’t going to let himself make. He had to find a way to kill the SQUIP. There had to be a way. But… he didn’t even know where to begin.

As he continued staring at the joint, a horrifying thought hit him like lightning. Jeremy could become like Rich. He could burn down a building or commit suicide or something worse. The SQUIP was a ticking time bomb. He had to do something and he had to do it soon, maybe even that night. Michael picked up his phone and dialed his mom’s number.

No, he couldn’t pull her away from her business retreat. And she’d want to get the police involved. Jeremy was in enough trouble as is. That put all the other adults he knew off the table too. He was acquaintances with Dustin Kropp maybe he could… no. Dustin was in the hospital. Michael angrily rubbed his eyes.

“Shit.” He didn’t know anyone else. He’d always just had Jeremy. He didn’t have any other friends. But he couldn’t do this alone, he couldn’t. He needed backup. He needed another pair of hands. He needed a friend. He was completely out of options.

_Unless. No._

_….damnit._

Michael picked up his things and headed back inside, into his room. He sat down on his bed, head in his hands, trying to think of some kind of alternative. Nothing.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Michael was desperate. He picked up a pen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick shoutout to @whyamiheere on tumblr for making an amazing playlist for this fic! Listen to it [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/meggieb417/playlist/3YqDdoJ0Y8iUQIfW2fvC8n?si=g7-QnzA8T1qGI3A1FiJM9A)
> 
> Also I made some aesthetic boards for this fic... so here those are if you're interested! [Rich](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174274656418/rich-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars) [Jeremy](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174275939288/jeremy-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars?is_highlighted_post=1) [Jake](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174278693173/jake-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars?is_highlighted_post=1)


	20. Jake

_I really need your help. Middle Borough High School, Red Bank, New Jersey. If you can’t come in person, please just respond._

Jake hadn’t taken his pain medication yet, so he probably wasn’t hallucinating. Probably. But that was the only explanation for his soulmate writing to him after years and years of radio silence. He blinked and rubbed his eyes several times, and resisted the urge to pinch himself. The words stayed. His soulmate had written to him. His soulmate needed help.

Jake shook his head as his thoughts collected. He should just ignore it. Let his soulmate know how it felt to be alone when you desperately needed someone to talk to. Give them a taste of radio silence.

But then he pictured someone lost and alone, possibly in danger, most likely writing to him as a last resort, all hope pinned on a mysterious soulmate. _Son of a bitch,_ Jake thought to himself, grabbing his crutches and slowly rising from the chair. _Me and stupid morals._ He tried to convince himself as he left the empty apartment he now called “home” that he was doing it to meet his soulmate and give them a piece of his mind. Or because he felt obligated too. Definitely not because he was desperate for any kind of attention from them.

Jake leaned on one crutch and struggled to lock the apartment door. It was hard to find the energy to be mad when so much had happened already. Dustin. Christine. The party. The fire. The hospital.

_Rich._

He’d lost almost everything. If his soulmate was in trouble, he'd put his personal grievances with them aside. Jake couldn’t lose his soulmate too, even if he’d never really had them in the first place.

 

…

 

Jake thanked his Uber driver and stumbled out of the car. It wasn’t exactly easy to walk around on two broken legs. But his apartment wasn’t wheelchair accessible so he had to make do with shoddily made crutches and big bulky leg casts. He should have taken more medicine. The pain was almost unbearable. All this to say, Jake was miserable, and he really fucking hoped his soulmate appreciated that he was up and about at this time on a Saturday. On two broken legs.

No one was in front of the school. It seemed completely deserted. So Jake sat down on a bench and waited.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Fuck. This was a setup. His soulmate didn’t care about him, no one cared about him. They were sitting somewhere, laughing about this now. Laughing at how eager he was. Jake put his head in his hands. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to fucking cry.

“Uh… you doing okay, buddy?” a voice said. Jake’s head snapped up at the sound. It was… he’d seen this guy before. Around school. Fuck, where’d he seen this guy before?

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Yeah, sure,” the guy in the red hoodie snorted. “You sure seem fine, Ja-” The guy stopped mid-word, freezing completely. When he noticed how Jake was looking at him, he blinked and shook himself a little. “... Jake,” he finished.

“You got me. Both my legs are broken,” Jake deadpanned.

“Yeah, that’s… “ the boy suddenly seemed very uncomfortable, not making eye contact and fiddling with his bracelets. Jake was about to say something else when the boy spoke again. “Please tell me you’re not waiting here for your soulmate.”

“That is… “ Jake said slowly, “exactly what I’m doing. Is someone around here looking for me?” Instead of answering, the boy just kind of looked at him helplessly, and in one smooth motion, rolled back his left hoodie sleeve. _I really need your help. Middle Borough High School, Red Bank, New Jersey. If you can’t come in person, please just respond._

A boy. His soulmate was a boy. A dude. A male. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified that his sexuality crisis was now justified. He wasn’t making his feelings up. He… he wasn’t straight. Jake found himself just gaping at the guy -- his soulmate.

“Um. Sup. I’m Michael. Michael Mell. And this is sufficiently awkward.” Jake nodded mutely. He still couldn’t believe that all of this was real. “God, this is bad timing too. With everything that you’ve been through… you can leave if you want.”

“No!” Jake said, way too quickly, way too desperately. Michael just nodded, playing with the cord of his white headphones and biting his lip.

“It is true? The thing about Dustin Kropp? I don’t really care, I just feel obligated to ask, since you’re clearly shocked that I’m… well… a dude.”

“I’m not shocked,” Jake snapped. “Just… surprised.” Michael gave him a soft look. Jake wasn’t used to seeing someone look at him so openly. So he spilled. “It...yeah. It’s true. I don’t know how it got out but…”

“So, you’re gay,” Michael said.

“No. I like girls.”

“But you slept with a guy.”

“... yes.”

“And enjoyed it?”

“...”

“...Jake?”

“Yes.”

“Can you see yourself in a romantic relationship with someone who isn’t a girl?”

“I just have a lot of feelings,” Jake sighed, hoping he was making sense. “I have a lot of love to give, and there’s lots of people I want to give it to. Gender doesn’t matter to me. I'm not straight. And it… it scares me.”

“It shouldn’t scare you,” Michael said, tentatively placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “There’s terms for that. If you want… when you’re ready. I can help you figure it out.”

“I don’t want to talk about this,” Jake said. He did. He really, really needed to talk about it. But he couldn’t handle that. Everything was too much, too fast. They needed a subject change at all costs.

“You have a slushie,” Jake stated. Michael looked down at the blue beverage in his hand and smiled sheepishly.

“I was still high when I wrote you. Slushie seemed like a good idea at the time. I was gonna give it to you as a peace offering… but I was really thirsty.” Michael laughed humorlessly before cutting himself off by taking a sip. They fell into silence.

Jake wanted to yell at Michael. _How could you ignore me?_ he wanted to scream. _Do you even know who I am?_ But Michael did know who he was. Everyone in school did. He just didn’t seem to care. Where giggly underclassman girls would turn into perfectly quiet blushing messes around him, Michael was… just talking to him. He wasn’t trying to appeal to Jake. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. If anything, Michael only seemed kind of guilty for ignoring him. Maybe. He’d never been good at reading people.

“Why am I here?” Jake finally asked.

“It’s a long story,” Michael said.

“Well, you asked me to come,” Jake said. Michael nodded, cracking a small smile as he poked his straw up and down in the cup.

“We can’t talk here,” Michael finally said. “I’d suggest 7/11 since it’s kinda my safe place, but as you can see, I was just there.” Michael shook his cup a little and handed it to Jake. “Want some?”

“You must be insane,” Jake said with a smirk. “If you ever feel _safe_ in a shitty place like 7/11.” He took a sip of the slushie and handed it back to Michael with a nod of thanks.

“Fair enough,” Michael said. “But we have to talk somewhere. Do you have any ideas?”

Jake had one.

 

…

 

“So, Sbarro? Really?” Michael said as they sat down with their food.

“This is _my_ safe place, man,” Jake said with a tight grin. “And your safe place is 7/11, so you’re in no place to judge.”

“Gotta love that convenience store sushi.” A light bulb went on and Jake snapped his fingers and beamed at the realization.

“That’s where I recognized you from. You’re Heere’s best friend who always brings sushi to lunch.” Jake chuckled and took a bite of pizza. “God, you have no taste in sushi.”

“And you have no taste in pizza,” Michael quipped, stealing a breadstick. “Fuck, maybe that’s why we’re soulmates.” They both went quiet immediately. Saying it out loud was still weird. Jake didn’t know if he’d ever be used to thinking about Michael as his soulmate.

He was pretty sure he could at least _try_ to get used to it. Michael was… nice. He was pretty good-looking. And he wasn’t acting starstruck -- he wasn’t going to just do whatever Jake told him to like everyone else Jake had ever dated. It was unique, and it was tantalizing.

But Michael had also ignored him for years. He’d ignored him and never gave him a reason. _Still_ wasn’t giving him a reason.

“Why did you ignore me?” Jake said before he could think better of it, Michael paused mid-bite and lowered his pizza, swallowing and looking Jake right in the eyes.

“It wasn’t personal or anything,” Michael mumbled.

“Please?” Jake asked, for once not caring how vulnerable he looked. He was tired of being left alone without reason. He needed to know why. Michael sighed and took off his glasses to rub his eyes. Then he replaced them and took a deep breath.

“Well, soulmates were always kind of against my ideals,” Michael explained. “I don’t like to be commanded by some arbitrary law of the universe that we still don’t understand. And since, hey, I’m very gay, I’m a strong advocate for being able to love who I want to love. I guess… I just don’t like the idea of being tied down.” Jake nodded. Chloe always said something similar, but for her, it was more about playing hard-to-get.

“Secondly,” Michael continued. “Ugh, it’s stupid now. But uh… when you first wrote me. You assumed I was a girl.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay, you also assumed you were straight, I’m guessing. I had like just figured out I was gay, so I guess I was just in a defensive mindset. That small thing… made it easier to dislike you. And I know it wasn’t your fault. It was dumb.”

It was dumb. Jake would have been angry if he wasn’t so emotionally exhausted. Besides, all the anger he could muster was reserved for… someone else.

“And I guess the third reason,” Michael sighed. “At the time… is that you weren’t Jeremy.” Jake blinked.

“You had a crush on-”

“Of course I had a crush on Jeremy. Newfound raging hormones, only boy I hang out with? Not a stretch.” Jake felt kind of stupid.

“But you don’t anymore,” he persisted. He didn't really know why he cared. Michael had made it clear that they didn't owe each other anything.

“Nah. We’re better as friends.”

“It’s just… you guys always seem so touchy… and super close. Are you sure there’s nothing there?”

“Two guys can have a close relationship and have it still be platonic. That’s what Jeremy and I have… had. It’s like what you and Rich had.”

“Rich and I… “ Jake sighed. “We weren’t close. He never seemed to want to get close to anyone or talk about feelings and shit. And obviously, he didn’t care about me. Look what he did. He’s a careless person. If I ever tried to open up he’d smash up my feelings and retreat back into his angry ranting. I just… I don’t get why.”

“I know why,” Michael finally said. “That’s why you’re here. Listen, this is going to sound crazy.” Jake ran a hand through his hair and gave Michael and incredulous look.

“Bro, I’ve been through so much shit this weekend, there’s not a lot that can really phase me. Try me.”

So Michael did. He said that Jeremy came home from school one day with a story about Rich cornering him in one of the school bathrooms and telling him about some kind of advanced computer drug that you could swallow. A drug that would travel into your brain and give you instructions on how to be cool. A drug you took with Mountain Dew of all things.

Jake wanted to stop Michael several times and comment on how crazy it sounded. But once Michael got talking, he sounded so desperate… so hopeless. So he let him keep talking. Apparently, Michael had taken Jeremy to Payless shoes and helped him buy the mysterious “SQUIP” and though it didn’t seem to work at first, eventually Jeremy just disappeared. Michael told him about being ignored as though he wasn’t even visible. About going to the Halloween party and confronting Jeremy. About Jeremy dismissing him.

“Rich has one of them too,” Michael began to finish slowly. “I uh… took this picture of the yearbook to show you a side by side. I didn’t anticipate that my soulmate would already know Rich though… I guess it’ll help prove my point more.”

“What do you mean?” Jake finally said. He didn’t know what to think of all of this. There was no way it could all be true. Michael wordlessly pulled out his phone and scrolled around for a bit before turning it around and placing it in Jake’s hand.

It took a while for Jake to even see it. But that Freshman… in the background. Short stature. Thick glasses. Nervous demeanor. … there was no way.

“What the fuck?” Jake breathed. That was Rich.

“That's him. Pre-squip,” Michael said. “I know it still sounds insane, but think about it! Once I considered it seriously, it started adding up. Up until recently, Rich never messed up. He always knew what to say, and for fuck’s sake, he could talk his way out of anything! I mean, you knew him best. Did he ever once talk about anything dorky around you? Did he ever stutter or say the wrong thing?” Jake wanted to find a wrinkle in Michael’s theory. He didn’t want to believe that his best… former best friend was little more than a shell housing a computer. But… everything Michael was saying was true.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“No kidding.” Michael took his phone back and finally sat back in his chair, his half-eaten lukewarm pizza entirely forgotten.

“That’s why he did it,” Jake said suddenly. Of course! It all made sense now. “I thought Rich hated me! But he probably set the fire because his… whatever it was called… told him to!” A computer taking over his friend and forcing him to commit arson was an odd thing to celebrate, but Jake took it. He hadn’t had a lot to celebrate recently.

“I don’t think it was forcing him to act crazy,” Michael said, cringing. Jake’s face fell. _No. No, Rich can’t actually be crazy. He can’t be crazy. I know him… he’s not crazy._ “Jake…I think he went crazy because of the SQUIP. I think he may have set the fire to… well...you know.”

Jake didn’t say anything. He could hear his heart thumping in his chest, blood rushing to his ears. He felt like crying. He felt like screaming. He felt nothing.

“I’m no better than him,” he whispered out. “I was pissed at him for so long for not noticing that I needed help. But I ever noticed that he needed _my_ help. I saw him at the party… I could have _done_ something…”

“Hey, hey!” Michael stood up quickly and crouched down beside Jake, rubbing his back. “It’s not your fault. Don’t go blaming yourself. You’ve been through enough.” Jake almost wanted to flinch away, as he didn’t know Michael very well at all, but the touch felt nice. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had just held him this tenderly.

“Maybe if I had, he wouldn’t have told everyone,” Jake sniffled. When had he started crying? “No one tried to help him. He was acting weird all night and no one checked up on him. All the sporadic dancing… screaming about Mountain Dew Red… and the-”

“What was that?” Michael said suddenly, stopping his hand. “Mountain Dew Red? What was he saying about it?”

“I was in the bedroom with Chloe at the time,” Jake said, wiping away the last of his tears. “So I don’t know for sure. But Jenna said he was yelling across the dance floor, asking if anyone had it. And Christine said he was just mumbling that he needed it over and over, like he didn’t even realize he was saying it.”

Michael stood up very suddenly, almost bumping into Jake. He was grinning madly and started to do a small dance. Jake was very lost.

“Um… Michael? Why are you-”

“Jakey, my buddy, my soulmate,” Michael said, grabbing Jake’s hands. “I think we finally just got extremely lucky. I have a hunch. And my gut’s almost never wrong. Get up, we’re going to Spencer’s.” Jake stumbled to his feet, grabbing his crutches from where they were leaned against the table.

“Why? I thought we were going to do something about the… SQUIP was it?”

“The cashier at Spencer’s is hooking me up with Mountain Dew Red!” Michael practically squealed, as if that explained anything. “He texted me that it came in just two days ago! Let’s go!”

“I’m good here. Just come back when you get it, I’m not crutching across the mall,” Jake said, sitting down again. “And then maybe you can actually explain what the fuck you’re talking about.” Michael just saluted and practically sprinted away. Jake shook his head and sighed. He really hoped Michael knew what he was doing. For all of their sakes.

 

…

 

“You really think it’ll shut them off?” Jake said, picking up the bottle and examining it. _Geez, this thing looks old as dirt._

“I’m sure,” Michael said, waving his hand dismissively.

“That’s good.”

“At least 70% sure.”

“... that’s worse. But I guess it’s all we’ve got.” He grabbed his crutches and turned to Michael one last time before leaving the car. “Thanks for giving me a ride to the school so I could make call time. Good luck with the plan. Just tell me if you need me to do anything.”

“Ok. But if Jeremy talks to you, play dumb. I think his SQUIP can hear everything you say, and we need the element of surprise,” Michael said.

“You’ll need this,” Jake said, handing Michael back the bottle of Red. Michael smiled and put it back in the Spencer’s bag. _Well, time to mutilate some Shakespeare,_ Jake thought to himself, grabbing the door handle.

“Wait!” Michael said, rummaging through the bag. “I… well. I got you something. While I was in Spencer’s.” He uncurled his hand, revealing a pin decorated with a pink stripe, a yellow stripe, and a light blue stripe. “For your jacket,” Michael explained. “If you want. You should look up what it means. And if it’s not right for you… I can always get you a different one.” Even if Jake didn’t know the specifics, he eyed the pride patch on Michael’s hoodie. He had an idea what it might be for.

“Thanks,” he said with a smile. And he really meant it.

“Don’t mention it. Oh, and break a… good luck tonight.” Jake flipped him off, laughing, and left the car.

 

…

 

“Geez, whose idea was it to put tic-tacs in the bottom of the punch bowl?” Jake wondered aloud.

“I think Jenna put them in,” Chloe scoffed, sipping from her cup. “She's so fucking weird. It tastes kinda funny though. It thought it was just going to be Mountain Dew.”

_Oh no._

“Wait, did you say Mountain Dew?” Jake asked. Chloe’s eyes were glazed over, and she was staring intently at the wall. Then she stepped onstage wordlessly. Like a robot. Jake dropped his cup immediately.

 **“Jacob Dillinger. Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor. Your SQUIP.”** He saw a glitching figure in front of him, but before it could manifest into any sort of shape, he heard another, different voice. It sounded like that guy...from the Matrix.

 **“I’ll take it from here. Up Up Down Down Left Right A.”** He saw Michael with the Mountain Dew Red. He was vaguely aware that he dropped his crutches and starting walking on his broken legs. Then it all went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter yet! Not too shabby...  
> YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST AND EVERY COMMENT MAKES MY DAY SO PLEASE KEEP IT UP! :D
> 
> Playlist for this fic! Listen to it [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/meggieb417/playlist/3YqDdoJ0Y8iUQIfW2fvC8n?si=g7-QnzA8T1qGI3A1FiJM9A)
> 
> Also I made some aesthetic boards for this fic... so here those are if you're interested! [Rich](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174274656418/rich-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars) [Jeremy](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174275939288/jeremy-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars?is_highlighted_post=1) [Jake](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174278693173/jake-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars?is_highlighted_post=1)


	21. Rich

The first thing he noticed was the smell. Bleach. Saturated Clorox wipes. Hospital smell. He’d woken up to this smell before, another time much like this time, when he hadn’t counted on waking up at all. So he was alive. 

Rich didn’t know how to feel about that.

He refused to open his eyes, as if hoping that he could force the darkness upon himself by ignoring the world around him that he was, for better or for worse, still a part of. At least it was quiet. Rich couldn’t remember the last time it was this quiet.

**“You can’t rid of me that easily, Richard.”**

_ Go away. I’m supposed to be dead. I’m supposed to be free of you. _

**“Free?”** the SQUIP scoffed loudly, and Rich shivered under the itchy hospital covers.  **“You will** **_never_ ** **be free of me. You should not want to be free of me. Who else is going to help you pin the fire on someone else? Who else is going to rebuild your reputation from the scraps you’ve left it in?”**

“Stop!” Rich yelled, finally opening his eyes to the bright lights of his hospital room and trying to cover his ears. He couldn’t move. “I don’t want that! I don’t want any of that! I don’t want your help!”

**“You don’t know what you want,”** it hissed.  **“Do you want to talk to the police all alone? Do you want to face Jake again?”** Rich shook and started to sob, still trying to move at all, to try to regain some sort of control. 

**“Think about it,”** the SQUIP said. Then it retreated to the back of his mind. The room was blurry, but after the tears died down and Rich adjusted to the light, he could see why he wasn’t able to move. He was in a full body cast. He felt bandages on the left side of his face. It was only then that he felt the pain, all across his skin on the left side of his body. He wished he could stop the pain and set the whole hospital ablaze.

How dare he. How  _ dare  _ Rich think of something so awful. He hadn’t been thinking clearly that night. He could have hurt so many people… he could have  _ killed  _ someone. 

Jake.

He had destroyed Jake’s home. His shelter… all his things… everything his parents had left behind that he preserved religiously, awaiting their improbable return. 

Jeremy.

He could have hurt Jeremy. He  _ had  _ hurt Jeremy. So much, that he was now disgusted to even think of himself as Jeremy’s soulmate. Rich was too terrible for him. He deserved so much better. 

He’d hurt everyone… he’d hurt them beyond repair. And he’d done it all on his own. Maybe the SQUIP hadn’t made him a monster. Maybe Rich had been one all along.  

 

…

 

Nurses came and went, giving him meds and explaining his injuries and the like. Rich didn’t really pay attention. He wasn’t planning on making a recovery once he left the hospital. 

“Lucky to be alive,” they said. Rich had to hold back a scoff every time.

He had some sort of lung damage, so the nurse said smoking was off the table. Whatever. She said he miraculously didn’t break any bones, as his rescuer had taken the full impact of the ground when they leapt with Rich from the window. She said he had 3rd degree burns all over his arms and torso. And some on his face as well. He hardly cared. He’d just look as horrible on the outside as he was on the inside. 

No one visited, not that he really expected otherwise. Once he got out, it would all be over.

 

…

 

One evening, when Rich woke up, his head was quiet. Not like it was when the SQUIP was in temporary shutdown. Not like it was when he was high or drunk. It was silent. Vacant. 

The SQUIP was gone. 

But he was not alone. There were about three nurses in his room, all fussing over someone in the bed next to his, which had been previously empty. Rich strained to see, but there was only so much he could do when confined to his bandage prison. The nurses were blocking his view, and it was only once they moved around a bit that he could really get a glimpse of his new roommate. He almost looked like… 

“Jeremy?” Rich croaked out. One of the nurses helping an unconscious Jeremy into bed turned around and addressed him. 

“You know this boy?” he asked. Rich tried to nod but found that too painful. 

“Yeah, from school. What happened to him?”

“Some sort of incident at the school play. Several students were involved. Do you know anything about it?”

“No, sir. I’ve been in here and uh… no one’s visited.” The nurse frowned and gave him a look of pity. Then he turned around and went back to what he was doing. Rich couldn’t look away. His heart was a compass that always pointed to Jeremy. His eyes followed that persistent pull and locked onto the sleeping subject of his affections. 

They hadn’t bothered putting Jeremy is a hospital gown. He was still in his normal street clothes. No… not his clothes. The SQUIP’s clothes. Rich missed Jeremy’s dorky little cardigans that hung off his lanky frame and swallowed him up like a fluffy cloth hug. One loose curl of Jeremy’s soft brown hair was hanging down in his face, bobbing up and down ever so slightly with every breath Jeremy took. Oh, how he longed to tuck that strand of hair behind his ear and pull Jeremy into a tender embrace. Rich didn’t know what had gone down at the play, or the effect it would have on his soulmate once he woke up, but at the moment, Jeremy looked peaceful, a lazy smile upon his lips and a steady rhythm of breathing. 

Once the nurses left, he was alone with his not-so-platonic thoughts. Rich turned his head as far as he could and watched Jeremy intently, replaying his thoughts over and over in his head.

“I hate you,” Rich whispered at the sleeping boy. “You made everything so complicated.”

Jeremy, of course, didn’t answer. 

“It’s me, asshole,” Rich continued, knowing he’d never be able to say this to Jeremy if he was awake. “That’s what I was trying to tell you at the party. It’s me. Your soulmate.” He practically spat out the last sentence, watching the sleeping form across the room warily for any sort of a reaction. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that it’s me.” Rich finally let the comforting blanket of unconsciousness take over.

 

…

 

Headphones kid was there when Rich woke up. He had pulled up a chair and was sitting next to Jeremy’s bed, hands clasped together, crying silently. The kid was exhausted, if the dark bags under his eyes were any indication. If he had noticed Rich waking up, he didn’t acknowledge it in any way. The fear of talking on his own for the first time in a while was outweighed by Rich’s hunger for information about the outside world.

“I overheard the nurses,” Rich piped up finally. “They said tall-ass is gonna be okay. He should wake up any hour now.” Headphones kid (Michael, was it?) only scowled at him and looked back down at Jeremy with an unreadable expression. “What happened at the play?”

“Fuck off, Goranski.” He knew he deserved that. He knew it. But to hear that… it made him realize once again what everyone must think of him. Rich wanted the SQUIP back in that moment than hated himself for the thought as soon as he realized it had entered his head. Michael seemed to notice his distress and actually pulled his white headphones off his ears to give him an odd look.

“Your SQUIP’s gone, isn’t it,” Michael said. It wasn’t a question. Rich felt like choking. Michael knew about SQUIPs? Did everyone know? What the fuck had happened? 

“I figured,” Michael continued, not waiting for an answer. “Jeremy’s SQUIP did some kind of weird linking thing to all the others, so when his went under, so did everyone else’s.”

“Every… “ Rich couldn’t understand. “Everyone else’s? What do you mean everyone else’s?”

“Jeremy gave squips to the entire cast of Midsummer. I had to shut them all off with Red. I still don’t know how he got so many… “ The shoebox. Rich felt like he was gonna be sick. 

“I feel awful,” Rich said softly, and he wasn’t referring to the state of his gut. “I was so horrible to him. I hurt Jeremy so much. You must think I’m the biggest asshole on the planet, but I swear, I never wanted to hurt him.” 

“But you still did,” Michael said simply. He pulled back on his headphones and scrolled through his phone to turn the music back on. “Jake says hello, by the way.”

 

…

 

It didn’t really strike Rich that the SQUIP was gone for good until Jeremy was awake and staring at him, expecting him to say something. Rich could hardly talk to cute girls without the SQUIP. He had no experience talking to a cute… to someone he’d hurt so much for so long. 

“Feels like you’re missing a part of yourself, doesn’t it?” he said, half-hoping there was still some chance he could connect to Jeremy. So he could have something to cling to.

“Rich?” Jeremy asked in disbelief, blinking away dreariness. Rich did not miss the fear in Jeremy’s eyes. Rich was looking at his soulmate, but Jeremy was looking back on broken parts. An arsonist. A bully. A nobody. 

“Hurts like a motherfucker, too,” Rich added, not knowing what else to say. “Be honest: what are they saying about me at school?” Jeremy cringed. He’d always worn his heart on his sleeve, and the haunted look he radiated back told the story for him. “That bad, huh?” 

“Sorry,” Jeremy said. Rich just let out an empty chuckle.

“Sorry?” he repeated. “I’m finally free of that shiny happy hive mind.”

“The SQUIP?” Jeremy asked, confused. 

“No,” Rich said. “The popular kids. They’re the hive mind. I don’t have to pretend for anyone anymore. I can just be the real Rich, no matter how pathetic and terrible he may be.” Jeremy didn’t say anything, not the Rich expected him to.

“I’m glad mine’s gone too,” he mumbled. “It wasn’t…. It wasn’t good. It made me feel awful about being myself. It made me ditch Michael. It even… told me I couldn’t be… “ Jeremy trailed off, his eyes darting obviously over to Rich. 

“I’m not going to make fun of you, Jeremy,” Rich said. Jeremy made eye contact with the puke-colored bedspread, not looking comforted in the slightest.

“It wouldn’t let me be bisexual,” Jeremy said in one mumbled breath.  _ Bisexual.  _ Where had Rich heard that before? Jenna… she had said someone who liked both girls and guys could be-

“Me too!” he blurted out before he could stop himself. He blamed the cast for keeping his hands out of reach of his big, dumb mouth. “I’m totally bi.” Jeremy shot him a look that very clearly and politely announced: “You’re full of shit.”

“I’m therious. I mean… SERIOUS. My bad… I’m sure you’ve noticed the lisp,” Rich said, his mind going a-mile-a minute. “And I like reading books. I hate parties. And I'm a huge fucking raging bisexual.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Jeremy said, clenching the bedsheets. “I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t hate you!” Rich could feel himself growing hysteric, but he didn’t know how to stop. He couldn’t control his words anymore. “Jeremy, I don’t hate you, I lo-”

The door swung open, and Rich’s mouth, by some miracle, clamped shut. 

“Richard?” the nurse said. He didn’t bother correcting her. He didn't need a "cool" name anymore. “You're coming with me. I’m here to take your bandages off.” Taking them off should have sounded liberating, but it just left him with a fear of being exposed. It was sort of like losing the SQUIP. The SQUIP was like a burning, sinking boat in a storming sea. But now he didn’t even have the boat. And he could only tread water for so long. He turned his head towards Jeremy and gave him a small smile in place of a goodbye. He had a lifeboat, but he didn’t even have the strength to swim to him.

So if that meant his only option was to drown, so be it.

 

…

 

“They aren’t so bad,” Jeremy said after several minutes of thick silence. The scars were thick. Obvious.  _ Red.  _ Rich still hadn’t torn his gaze away from his arm.

“It’s what I get,” he responded. “For starting the fire.”

“You could have died,” Jeremy said shakily. 

“That was kind of the point,” Rich mumbled. Why would he even care? Jeremy let in a sharp breath. The hospital room seemed to be growing steadily hotter. Rich pushed some stray hairs out of his face with his left (ugly, ugly, ugly) arm. 

“Rich,” Jeremy began after a while. “After you get out of here, you won’t… I mean… you aren’t going to… Are you gonna try again?”

“What’s it to you?”

“You can’t!” Jeremy practically screeched. He scrambled to sit up so Rich could see the earnestness in his eyes. “People would miss you, Rich.”

“No they wouldn’t,” Rich almost laughed. “One less asshole in the world. And don’t even pretend that  _ you’d  _ miss me. I’ve only ever been terrible to you.”

“I don’t know you,” Jeremy said. He crumpled in on himself a bit. “But I’d like to. You’ve just been given a second chance. A chance to be free. Don’t just throw it away. Don’t you want to make amends?”

Make amends. It sounded scary and it sounded hard but  _ god _ did Rich want to make amends. He couldn’t die while Jake still thought Rich hated him. Even if he had to go and tell him about how pathetic the real Richard Goranski was, he couldn’t let Jake think that Rich had abandoned him. He had to make things right with Brooke and Chloe. And Jenna Rolan too. For every sexist remark. For every homophobic joke. For every time he made an ass of himself for attention. 

He had to apologize to Jeremy, but he didn’t know how. 

_ Wait.  _ There was a pen on the clipboard next to his hospital bed. Just because he could never tell Jeremy who he was, that didn’t mean he should stop being a supportive soulmate. Jeremy despised Rich, but he could write Jeremy and still be his friend, at least. A charade was better than nothing.

Rich leaned over and grabbed the pen, every inch of his burned skin protesting the movement. He uncapped it in a hurry and… 

“Rich… what are you doing?”

His arms. There had to be some free space… there had to be somewhere… He brought the pen down to his arm and hissed, jerking it away in pain. Even the soft contact was too much.

“Rich, stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”

He bit his lip and brought it down to the scarred skin again. If only he could stick it out… all he had to do was be strong and-

“GAAAAAAH!” he screamed. The pain was too much. He dropped the pen and fell back into bed, tears flooding down his cheeks and blinding him entirely. His outburst brought a nurse who was standing nearby outside the room in. He tried to calm him down and find the source of the pain, but Rich couldn’t say anything to him through the tears. He saw Jeremy say something to the nurse, gesturing to his arm. The nurse nodded and left them alone. Rich didn’t stop crying. It was as if all the unfairness of everything he’d endured suddenly culminated in one emotional release. 

After a bit, he was just shaking, a few thin tears leaving his eyes every once and awhile. Jeremy was watching him.

“What’s wrong, Rich?” Jeremy asked softly. Rich let out another sob, trying and failing to wipe all the tears away.

“I can’t write to him anymore,” Rich said. “He’s all I have left and I can’t…” A new wave of panic crashed over Rich. The lifeboat drifted further and further away. All that was left to do was let himself be taken by the darkness beneath.

“Then let me be there for you,” Jeremy said, more confidently than Rich had ever heard him speak. He looked up and saw Jeremy was crying too, doing everything he could to give Rich an inviting smile. 

There was so much Rich wanted to say.  _ I don’t deserve that. You’re better helping someone who’s not a lost cause. I love you. _

“Okay.”

Jeremy wasn’t a lifeboat. He was a lifeguard. And he was not going to let Rich sink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know for a hurt/comfort fic...there's a LOT more hurt than comfort.
> 
> Playlist for this fic! Listen to it [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/meggieb417/playlist/3YqDdoJ0Y8iUQIfW2fvC8n?si=g7-QnzA8T1qGI3A1FiJM9A)
> 
> Also I made some aesthetic boards for this fic... so here those are if you're interested! [Rich](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174274656418/rich-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars) [Jeremy](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174275939288/jeremy-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars?is_highlighted_post=1) [Jake](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174278693173/jake-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars?is_highlighted_post=1)


	22. Jeremy

 

Yesterday, Jeremy had left the hospital, carrying Rich’s empty-sounding promise that he’d “see him at school.” He couldn’t get those broken, cloudy eyes out of his head. The boy who tried to go up in flame on a lonely Halloween night. The boy who had made him a personal punching bag for over a year. The boy who liked books and hated parties. The boy who used to wear glasses and sweaters and didn’t even bother to show up for picture day.

Who was Richard Goranski? Who had Jeremy promised to stand with and protect?

Jeremy was surprised to find himself worrying so much about someone he really didn’t know at all. And it wasn’t just because Rich was one bad day away from crashing and burning in the most permanent way.

Rich had looked so haunted that night at the party. He looked hollow in the hospital. And Jeremy was beginning to realize that Rich had looked that way all along. Sort of insecure. Sort of… off. And almost apologetic. Every time he engaged in his sick games with Jeremy, there was an underlying sadness behind his eyes. It was only after the mask was off that Jeremy realized Rich had been broken all along.

Which only brought up more questions.

_Why me?_

Rich was a bully with his SQUIP, but Jeremy was the only nerd he ever hyper-fixated on. Sure, he was a general asshole to most of the student body, but Jeremy was the only one could never catch a break from his wrath. _Why?_

_“I don’t hate you!” Rich had yelled through his tears, as if it were the most important thing he would ever get to say._

_Then why? Jeremy wanted so desperately to ask. What did I ever do to you? Why beat me up? Why give me a SQUIP? Why come to me before setting the fire?_

_Why can’t I get you out of my head?_

 

…

 

Jeremy got through his first three periods on autopilot, thinking about Rich and trying to convince himself that the whispers in his head that sounded vaguely like Keanu Reeves were just his imagination. And as luck would have it, he found himself standing in the cafeteria among his peers, milling about, without anyone to sit next to. His best bet would be Michael. They had made up in the hospital, kind of. But their usual table was completely empty. So Jeremy sat by himself, pulling out his sandwich, knowing it would never satisfy the gaping hole in his chest.

“Jeremy.”

Jeremy looked up to see Michael standing across from him, a small but reserved smile on his face.

“Hey,” Jeremy said, not really knowing how to possibly articulate all his feelings.

“Do you want to come sit with us? You look really forlorn over here by yourself.”

“Wait… _us?_ Who are you sitting with?” Michael just shook his head and beckoned Jeremy with one finger. Jeremy sighed and stood up, following his best friend through the maze of tables until they reached…

_Oh hell no._

The popular kids' table. Michael sat down next to Jake Dillinger _Jake Fucking Dillinger_ like it was nothing. All the _holy shit holy shit_ coolest kids in school were watching him, waiting expectantly for him to sit down. There was an empty seat next to Chloe Valentine, who was still terrifying as ever, especially considering what had… almost happened at the party. There was a seat in between Brooke and Christine too, which looked like the better option. But he had so much to apologize to both of them for. He had to apologize to all of them, really. Jeremy could feel himself locking up and shutting down. He’d sat at this very table several times before, but then, he’d had the SQUIP. He’d had armor, and now he was alone and unprotected.

“Oh, for the love of god, sit down already,” Chloe groaned, grabbing his hand and practically forcing him down onto the seat next to her. “Your mini panic attack is just too pathetic to watch.”

“What Chloe _means_ is,” Jake cut in, giving him a reassuring smile, “you should relax. You’re still welcome here. Michael explained all the shit that happened during the play with you know… the ecstasy trip.” _Ecstasy?_ Everyone at the table nodded solemnly, sharing a knowing look.

“I… what?” Jeremy asked.

“That’s what I’m telling everyone,” Jenna said. Jeremy hadn’t even noticed her. She was actually sitting at the table, rather than lurking beside it as if it was a border she couldn’t cross. This was all so weird.

“We decided it’s best to keep the whole thing between the cast,” Brooke explained, not meeting his gaze. “If more people find out about Sq… ecstasy… there could be another incident.” Jeremy suddenly felt very uncomfortable again. All hot and sweaty and itchy. Jesus Christ, he had to calm down. He’d already humiliated himself enough.

“Wait so…” Jeremy stuttered out. “If you don’t need information about what happened… why are you letting me sit with you?”

“Because you’re our friend, silly,” Christine piped up with a small smile. “And I think the last thing you need is to be alone right now. You messed up. A lot of us did. But hey… we all were almost enslaved into a computer hivemind. Life’s too short to hold grudges.”

“For the record, I still think you’re an asshole,” Michael said, picking up a cafeteria fry before grimacing and setting it right back down on his tray. “We can’t all be Canigula. But hey, I’m willing to forgive you with some time. So… might as well start.”

Jeremy exhaled and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t feel like part of the group… not even remotely. But he didn’t exactly feel like they were going to knock him down and walk all over him either. So, that was an improvement. A tense silence fell over the whole group. There were probably a lot of things left unsaid between all of them, and Jeremy knew he still owed them one big apology. But just as he was psyching himself up to start a big, long, self-deprecating speech, Jake shattered the silence with a shaky mumble.

“It’s so quiet without Rich here.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said blankly, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s nice.”

“ _Shut up_.”

Chloe stopped, giving Jake the stink eye and leaning across the table. Michael pulled his headphones off and Christine and Jenna turned away from their conversation.

“What the fuck did you just say to me, Jakey?” Chloe asked, with a hollow laugh. “Are you actually defending that psychopath?”

“I said shut up!” Jake repeated with more intensity. “That’s my best friend you’re talking about.”

“Guys,” Brooke said, holding her hands up. “Please stop fighting.”

“I can call him a psychopath because that’s what he fucking is!” Chloe continued on, voice sharp and growing steadily louder. “He could have killed someone at the party! He burned your fucking house down, Jake! Did you forget that or something?”

“It wasn’t his fault! You _know_ that.”

“Well, let’s keep going, shall we?” Chloe said. “News flash! Rich has always been an asshole. No one of us actually liked him! He was a loud, sexist nuisance, and frankly, I’m glad that he’s not sitting with us anymore. Are you gonna forgive him for that? Are you gonna forgive him for trying to convince people you’re _gay_ , Jake?”

“Well, I’ve been an asshole too!” Jake yelled, slamming his fist down on the table. The trays clattered, and the cafeteria fell almost silent at the outburst. Jeremy made eye contact with Michael, both of them equally shocked. Christine reached out a cautious hand toward Jake.

“Jake, you aren’t-”

“Yeah, I am,” Jake said, calming down and letting himself crumple into his seat. “Especially to you, Christine. I’m sorry.” Christine withdrew her hand and hugged herself, nodding silently. “I’ll always hate myself for not stopping Rich. For not realizing something was wrong with him.” Jake turned and make eye contact with Jeremy. “Heere. I’m sorry I never stopped Rich from hurting you. I shouldn’t have turned a blind eye.” Then looked at Chloe, a strange kind of vulnerability in his eyes. “Chloe… I’m sorry I was such a shitty boyfriend last year. And I’m sorry I used you on Halloween.”

“Used me?” Chloe said, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I slept with you so it would shut down… the rumors. About Dustin. I was trying to ignore a part of myself. And I shouldn’t have pulled you into that.”

“Wait,” Chloe laughed coldly. “Are you saying that Rich’s little PSA was true?”

“Yeah, it’s true. I like boys, girls, and everything fucking in-between. So yeah, maybe we didn’t know Rich. But none of you knew me either! I’m so sick of all this bullshit.”

If Jake had use of his legs, he likely would have stormed off, but instead, he just averted his gaze downward and glared at his food, leaving everyone speechless.

“Have you seen him?” Jake whispered. It took Jeremy a minute before he realized that Jake was addressing _him._

“No,” Jeremy said, shoving his hands self-consciously into his jean pockets and playing around with the balls of lint. “I haven’t.”

 

…

 

“Psst. Tall-ass.”

Jeremy stiffened and turned around sharply, his hand clenched around the book he’d just taken off the shelf. His eyes quickly darted around, looking for Rich, but he didn’t seem him anywhere. It’d been several days since he’d been back at school and no one at the popular kids' table had caught even a glimpse of Rich yet.

“Over here.” Jeremy still couldn’t see Rich, but he followed the sound behind another bookshelf and found his former bully sitting at the furthest table back with a book.

And… oh.

Rich was in a muscle tank, the burns on his arms on full display. His hair was disheveled rather than slicked back, and there were dark bags under his (lifeless, empty) eyes. He looked so familiar… but he was a stranger.

“Admiring my fucked up arms?” Rich whispered with a sick grin. “I thought about covering them up, I really did.” He pulled a water bottle with the label ripped off out of his pocket and took a sip, cringing. Jeremy could tell even from where he was standing that it wasn’t water. “At least this way, I can pretend _that’s_ why people are staring.” That seemed to strike Rich funny as he started silently wheezing, closing his book and shaking his head.

“Rich… are you drunk?” Jeremy whispered. “At _school?_ ”

“No. ‘Mnot drunk,” Rich mumbled, swishing the liquid in the bottle around.

“I think you are.”

“I’ve only had one and half of these,” Rich insisted, his lisp even more pronounced than it had been in the hospital. Jeremy couldn’t hold back a tiny smirk. He was so drunk.

“You’re a lightweight,” he realized aloud. Rich scrunched up his face in protest.

“Am not. This shit is just strong.” Rich paused to hiccup. “But not stronger than me!”

“Why are drunk at school?” Jeremy whispered intensely, looking around to see if anyone was listening in. Rich noticeably deflated, tapping his fingers nervously on the table.

“The nurses said… I can’t smoke anymore. Lung damage. I guess I was addicted to it, because I needed to have some kind of fix,” Rich said. Jeremy’s heart sank as he saw Rich run a hand softly up and down one of his scar-covered arms. “And it makes _it_ shut up,” Rich added quietly.

So Rich was hearing his SQUIP too. Jeremy had only heard his at night so far, but it was still there...in whispers...in weak moments.

“Who did yours look like?” Jeremy asked before he could stop himself. Rich turned away, his face darkening. Shit. Too personal. “I mean, you don’t need to tell me or anything.”

Jeremy focused on the whirring noises of the library fan, hoping it could distract him from the awkward situation he just created. _Great plan, Heere. Go up to the kid who looks minutes away from offing himself and ask him to open up about his recent trauma._

“It looked like my dad,” Rich said after a bit. “It knew that I’d listen to him.” Rich took the bottle back out and took another swig.

“He used to beat the shit out of me and my brother, but ever since Caleb moved out… I guess it stopped being fun for my dad. Now he’s just a washed-up, useless drunk.” Rich tilted his head back and finished the bottle. “Just. Like I’m. Gonna be.” He shook the bottle and frowned, moving to stand up. “Shit, now I gotta refill this.”

Hell no. Jeremy had made Rich a promise in the hospital, and he was going to keep it. He was going to stop Rich from self-destructing. Without thinking twice, Jeremy leaned forward and snatched the bottle from Rich’s hand.

“What the fu-”

“I’m not going to let you. You’re better than this, Rich.”

“No, I’m not,” Rich hissed, face flushed. “I’m a mess. I deserve to wallow in my own misery forever. You should know that better than anyone.” Jeremy’s hands were shaking. He never thought he’d ever have the guts to stand up to Rich in any situation. The dangerous look in Rich’s eye was a look that was all too familiar. It was a precursor to every punch. But Jeremy knew better now. And he could see it: that same despair. The same message of “Help me” just below the tough exterior. The circumstances were different, but they were exactly the same.

“Tell me about your book,” Jeremy said, ignoring Rich’s words entirely. “Is it any good?”

“What are you doing?” Rich demanded. “I told you to-”

“What does it look like, Rich?” Jeremy said. “I’m being your friend, just as I said I would in the hospital. Now please…” Jeremy dared to look Rich right in the eyes, even though Rich was still trying to scare him off with a glare. “Please tell me about your book.”

Rich stuttered out some non-syllables and clenched his fists, all while glaring daggers at Jeremy. Rich wanted him to run away. He wanted Jeremy to leave him alone. And looking at the terrifying face did make Jeremy want to give in… but something inside told him that he couldn’t. There was something about Rich that made Jeremy want to protect him. Even if Rich didn’t want his help, he was going to get it.

Jeremy attempted a glare of his own and stared right back down at Rich. After what felt like hours, Rich finally tore his gaze away.

“Play.”

“What?”

“It’s a play. _Death of a Salesman,_ ” Rich said, staring the book cover. “There. Happy now?” Jeremy shook his head. “Fair enough,” Rich sighed.

“It sounds sad,” Jeremy said.

“It is.”

“Does it have a happy ending?”

“I don’t think so.”

 

…

 

Michael was the first person Jeremy saw after school, and coincidentally, the only person in the world he felt like talking to.

“Where were you at lunch today?” Michael demanded. “I swear no one was fighting today. It was kind of awesome. Did you know that Jake can quote half of _Air Bud_?”

“Okay, what’s going on with you and Jake? How’d that happen?” Jeremy asked. He got a weird… vibe off them, yesterday at lunch.

“Oh! Right, I didn’t tell you… turns out we’re soulmates.”

“... the fuck?”

“I know right!” Michael whispered excitedly, practically jumping up and down. “We’ll gossip later. Where were you at lunch?” Jeremy sighed dramatically and threw up his arms in exasperation.

“I tried to talk to Rich,” he explained. “But he was being an asshole. It’s like that’s the only way he knows how to talk to me! I’m trying to be his friend.”

“A noble cause,” Michael cut in.

“And he’s making it hard.”

“That’s what he said,” Michael said. Jeremy jabbed a finger at Michael’s belly.

“Should I just give up?” Jeremy asked. “Like what if he actually hates me? Maybe he’s an asshole, SQUIP or no SQUIP.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Michael said. “I have a theory. You know how in kindergarten there’s the stereotype of boys pulling little girls' pigtails because they like them and don’t know how to articulate it?”

“What about it?”

“My dude,” Michael said, placing his hands firmly on Jeremy’s shoulders. “Hold onto your pigtails.” Jeremy scoffed and shrugged Michael off. He picked his bag off the floor and started to walk to the parking lot with his best friend.

“Interesting, Michael,” Jeremy said. “Oh, by the way, the flat-earthers called. They want their theory skills back.”

...

 

The next day, Rich was in the library during lunch again. Jeremy sat down at Rich’s small table without any sort of invitation. Rich looked a bit taken aback.

“Keep walking, Heere. I’m not interested in talking to you.” Jeremy set down his lunch on the table and pulled out his sandwich, making sure the librarian couldn’t see him eating from her desk.

“So don’t,” Jeremy said simply. “No need for talking. I’m just going to sit here.” Rich rolled his eyes and pulled out a book. It wasn’t _Death of a Salesman._ Had he finished that already?

“Is that a new book?” Jeremy asked.

“It’s _The Things They Carried._ I finished _Death of a Salesman_ last night,” Rich said simply.

“Did it have a happy ending?”

“No.”

“... oh. I was kind of hoping it would.”

“Did you not hear the title? Those matter, you know.” Rich turned the page, shaking his head.

“You’re a really fast reader.”

“I’d be faster if you weren’t yapping on at me.”

“Sorry,” Jeremy said, playing with the sleeve of his cardigan. “I get bored.”

“Here’s a bright idea, tall-ass,” Rich said, rolling his eyes. “How about you bring a book so you can stop pestering me about my reading?”

 

…

 

The next day, Rich didn’t even bother asking Jeremy why he was there. He just sighed and gestured to the chair, waving the metaphorical white flag.

“What’s that?” Rich said after a bit, gesturing to Jeremy’s book.

“Oh… It’s…” Jeremy sighed. “It’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” Rich said. “Unless it’s _Twilight._ That’s dumb, but I could eventually forgive you for that.”

“It’s MacBeth,” Jeremy said, finally sitting down in the chair across from Rich. “I had to read it earlier this year, but I just… want to read it again. Um. My… soulmate. We talked about it together one time, and well… they don’t write to me anymore. So, I guess this is the next best thing, right?” Rich looked up from his book and gave Jeremy an odd look.

“If they’re ignoring you, why are they worth your time?” Rich asked.

“I don’t know,” Jeremy said honestly, picking up the book and thumbing through it until he reached his bookmark. “The universe certainly thinks they’re worth my time.” Rich didn’t say anything else until the bell rang signifying the end of lunch.

 

…

 

Jeremy closed the back cover of the book and set it down on the table with satisfaction. Rich looked up from _Animal Farm_ at the noise and cracked a small smile. It was the most genuine smile Jeremy had even seen from Rich. It was… a wonderful smile.

“So, you finished,” Rich said. “Only took you three days longer than it should have.”

“It’s Shakespeare shit,” Jeremy defended. “Might as well be another language.”

“Read the footnotes then, dumbass,” Rich grunted, turning back his book.

“I just don’t get the thing with the witches, I guess,” Jeremy said, eyeing Rich. _Take the bait, stupid. Please, take the bait._

“What about them?”

“Why would do that to MacBeth? He seems like a decent guy before… well. All the murder.” Rich snorted, then covered his mouth with his hand in a fruitless attempt to conceal his short laugh.

“I mean, we don’t even really know if the witches are a catalyst or not. They could actually be clairvoyant, or they could just want to mess with a decent guy and marvel at the chaos they create. The only thing that’s for sure is that there is something otherworldly about them. That’s why their lines are in Trochaic tetrameter rather than Shakespeare’s standard Iambic Pentameter.”

“Hot damn,” Jeremy whispered. “You’re a _nerd.”_

“I’m not a-” Rich started. Then he sighed, set down his book, and dug his hands into his face, groaning. “Yeah. There. Are you happy? Rich Goranski is a fucking bibliophile. He’s a nerd who uses big words like ‘bibliophile’. Why don’t you go tell the whole school?”

“Rich…” Jeremy only hesitated a minute before grabbing Rich’s hand and squeezing it softly. It was a simple motion, but it turned out far more intimate than Jeremy had intended. Not that he exactly hated that thought… huh. Something to file away.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” Rich laughed sadly. “They all already know I’m fucking crazy or something. What difference does it make if I’m a nerd?”

“Rich, listen,” Jeremy said softly, squeezing Rich’s hand tighter. “First of all, you’re not crazy. We both know that, so you need to stop believing it. And as for anyone else, fuck them! The Rich Goranski I know never gave a damn what anyone in the school thought of him. Sure, you’re different now, but why can’t you use some of that old confidence?”

“Jeremy, I _do_ care what others think of me. That’s why I bought the damn thing and listened to it for so long. Don’t you get it? The confidence… it was fake. I never had it. And I never will. I can’t pretend to be that person anymore.”

“I get it,” Jeremy said, letting Rich’s hand go and leaning back in the library chair. “But it’s like what Jake did.” Rich froze at the mention of his former best friend’s name.

“I don’t…” Rich trailed off.

“He came out to the entire school at lunch yesterday as pansexual. Like, screamed it through the cafeteria. And Michael told me after school that attendance at the GSA doubled that afternoon.”

“Yeah,” Rich spat. “Well if you haven’t noticed, I don’t look like a fucking model.”

“Are you kidding?” Jeremy said, his mouth moving _without his permission oh dear lord someone stop his dumb no-filter mouth._ “You’re really hot.” Rich’s eyes snapped up to Jeremy’s his eyes going comically wide and… could it be?... a small blush dusting his cheeks.

“Uh… yeah. Thanks.”

“So go out and make literature cool,” Jeremy said. “The librarians will idolize you.” Rich laughed softly and stared at his lap for a bit, considering. Then he stood up and placed his book in his backpack. “What are you doing?” Jeremy asked. He had to take extra care that Rich wouldn’t do anything rash.

“I think it’s time my friends met the real Richard Goranski. He’s a nerd, he’s got a badass lisp, and he’s totally bisexual.” Jeremy beamed and followed him out of the library. He was doing it! He was really helping Rich readjust, and if he got Rich to the cool kids' table again, well, everyone could do a bit of well-needed healing. _We really should all consider group therapy._

They walked down the hallway next to each other. Jeremy kept his eyes on the prize, staring down the hall at the crowded cafeteria, but he could practically feel Rich’s eyes on him.

“Are you staring at me?” Jeremy asked as they walked.

“One sec, not done checking you out,” Rich said. Jeremy heard himself let out a small squeak of surprise, followed by a tidal wave of instant regret. “Joking,” Rich said.

Jesus Christ. Well, that came out of nowhere.

“Well, what do we have here?” A senior who was leaning against the wall, on his phone, suddenly walked right in front of Rich and Jeremy and blocked their path. He was built like a jock, and Jeremy recognized a threat when he saw one. “Hey there, Goranski,” he sneered.

Jeremy couldn’t move. He was paralyzed with fear, and Rich didn’t look much better off.

“You’re seriously hanging out with _him?_ Didn’t think you’d lower your standards that much.” Rich nearly growled and took an aggressive step forward, in front of Jeremy.

“I’ll have you know that-”

“I’m not talking to you!” he said with a barked out laugh. “I’m talking to _Jeremy_. You have a death wish or something, twink? Hanging out with this psycho? Or do you just get hard when he beats the shit out of you?”

That was the breaking point. A fist collided with the jock’s face, clocking him right in the nose. _Red red red. Red everywhere. What a nice color of red._

“Jeremy…” Rich said next to him, his voice unbelieving. Jeremy raised his shaking hand up in front of his face. It was throbbing from the impact. _Holy shit. Did I just do that?_

“Mr. Heere! Mr. Goranski! Mr. Dunlap! My office. Now.”

 

…

 

“You shouldn’t have done that for me,” Rich said as he walked Jeremy out to his car. Three days suspension. Jeremy couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t gotten any punishment for the “ecstasy”, but one punch was apparently too much for the principal.

“It’s okay,” Jeremy said. “I’d always wondered what it was like to be on that side of a punch.” Rich sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Didn’t know it’d hurt my hand that much. But I think I broke his nose.”

“You didn’t do it right,” Rich said. “Punching has form to it. I’d show you sometime, but…” Rich paused to kick a stray rock across the parking lot. “I’d rather not do that sort of thing anymore.”

“I gave me kind of a rush, actually,” Jeremy laughed. “I felt brave. Like you.” Rich looked like he wanted to protest, but one shared look told him that there was no point.

“Hey, uh…” Rich said, wringing his hands. “So you’re suspended tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

“Think you can get out of the house?”

“Yeah, my dad works downtown tomorrow.”

“Good. Waffle House. 11 am. Your ass better not be late.” Jeremy unlocked his car and opened the door.

“Wait, are you gonna skip?” Jeremy asked. “You’re a nerd now. Shouldn’t you love school?” Rich gave him another rare, real smile. The smile that made Jeremy’s heart feel tingly. Like a foot falling asleep. But good. No… like a caffeine buzz.

“Yeah, I’m gonna skip,” Rich said. “What’s the point in going if you’re not there?” Rich turned and walked back into the school without another word. Jeremy sat in the car for five minutes before he had the brain capacity to turn the key.

He didn’t know what was happening between them. But… he kinda liked it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left to tie it all up...it'll be another long one.
> 
> I answered some questions about this fic! Check that out [here!](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174788824273/2-9-for-written-in-the-scars-please)
> 
>  
> 
> Playlist for this fic! Listen to it [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/meggieb417/playlist/3YqDdoJ0Y8iUQIfW2fvC8n?si=g7-QnzA8T1qGI3A1FiJM9A)
> 
> Also I made some aesthetic boards for this fic... so here those are if you're interested! [Rich](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174274656418/rich-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars) [Jeremy](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174275939288/jeremy-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars?is_highlighted_post=1) [Jake](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174278693173/jake-moodboard-for-written-in-the-scars?is_highlighted_post=1)


	23. Rich

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the lovely art featured in this chapter was something i got commissioned from @reverseinversedisperse on tumblr. Go show them some love!

Rich sat in math class, heart still pounding. He knew he should be listening to the teacher, especially since he no longer had the SQUIP as an academic safety net, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything. Because he had kinda sorta asked Jeremy on a date.

Okay, so not really a _date_ date. But they were getting food together at a restaurant. Just the two of them. Not to mention the fact that he’d told Jeremy in a moment of weakness that he was the only reason Rich was bothering to show up to school at all. That statement didn’t really comply with the behaviors taught in “How to Act Heterosexual 101”. Of course, Jeremy wouldn’t think it was a date because Rich had given him no reason to believe Jeremy meant anything to him at all.

Except for when Rich had told him that Jeremy was the only reason school was worth coming to. And by extension, one of the main reasons Rich was still moving and breathing.

Each tick of the wall clock behind him echoed into Rich’s ears like the cold, harsh _bang_ of a gavel, sentencing him to a long afternoon of being alone with his thoughts and the whispers in the back of his head.

**“He doesn’t want you.”**

_Shut up, I already know that._

**“He’d hate you if he knew you’re his soulmate.”**

_He already hates me._

**“That’s right. Everyone does.”**

The bell rang and Rich could not get out of school fast enough. As he made his way to the parking lot, his peers stared and whispered. One of them tripped him and he fell on his ass right in the middle of the crowded hall. _Don’t get sad, get mad. Don’t get sad, get mad._

Rich started sobbing in the middle of the floor, and the whispering only seemed to get louder and louder, until it was roaring in his ears. It was only after the crowd subsided and he was alone that he found the strength to stand again.

He was back to square one. But this time, he knew he deserved to be this invisible and despised. At least he had Jeremy. For whatever reason, he still had Jeremy.

 

…

 

“Why Waffle House?” Jeremy said as he sat down, not even bothering with a hello. Oh, god, Rich had missed seeing that blue cardigan. It looked so soft and delicate: it suited Jeremy, and he looked far more relaxed to be back in his own clothes.

“Why do you ask so many questions?” Rich bit back without thinking. Rather than looking apologetic or scared, Jeremy just rolled his eyes and sank into the seat opposite Rich, a small smile tugging at his lips. Hot air was whirring out of a large grate next to them, so Jeremy shrugged off the cardigan and stretched out his arms with a satisfying _pop._

Rich crossed his legs as subtly as he could.

“What happened to your glasses?” Jeremy asked after a minute, picking up a menu.

Rich nearly choked on his water.

“What?”

Jeremy smirked, as if he’d been expecting that response and pulled out his phone, swiped left for a bit and then turned it around to show Rich the screen.

Rich choked on his water.

It was a picture from freshman year, right out of the yearbook. Sure, Rich was hovering in the background like bigfoot, but he was definitely there. He was pretty sure he still had that sweater somewhere in the back of his closet. Oh man…

“Put that away,” Rich hissed.

“You used to be so cute!” Jeremy protested.

“Excuse you, I’m still cute,” Rich scoffed. “And I’m ripped now, so no one’s missing anything.”

“But what happened to the glasses?” Jeremy repeated, finally giving in and shutting off his phone.

“The SQUIP happened,” Rich said simply, stealing Jeremy’s straw to shoot the wrapper at him. “And it’s called contacts, tall-ass.”

The waitress came over and Jeremy ordered waffles for the both of them, asking for one receipt. Rich gave him an odd look, but Jeremy just shrugged.

“I didn’t realize we were on a date, tall-ass,” Rich joked, hoping to every higher power he could think of that he wasn’t as transparent as he felt.

“Fuck you, I’m being nice,” Jeremy said. “And I was just concerned you couldn’t read all this tiny print without your glasses.”

Rich felt his lips tug into a tiny smile. A picture of his former self flashed in his mind, but for once... for once he didn't feel the need to recoil and banish the image to the furthest corners of his mind. Jeremy liked his nerdiness. He liked the real Rich...

“I think it’s a well-established fact that I can read just fine,” Rich said. “I actually finished _Animal Farm_ last night.”

“Was it about a farm?” Jeremy asked, who looked very aware that he was asking a dumb question.

“It’s about communism, genius,” Rich said. “It’s an allegory. Jesus Christ.”

“Sounds lit.”

Rich groaned. “Don’t say ‘lit’ while we’re talking about _Animal Farm_ ,” he said.

“Can I say it if it’s an abbreviation for ‘literature’?” Jeremy asked with a shit-eating grin. Rich leaned back and rested his head on the back of the booth, staring at the ceiling in exasperation.

“I’m not even answering that,” he said.

“You remind me of the soulmate sometimes,” Jeremy laughed. Rich’s blood ran ice cold. “They love books too. I told you we talked a lot about Macbeth once, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

“It was fun. I don’t know that much about books or metaphors and shit, but when I talked about that stuff with my soulmate… I don’t know. Those were some of the best conversations I’ve ever had.” Jeremy got a wistful look in his eye, staring across the restaurant at nothing at all.

“But they aren’t talking to you anymore,” Rich cut in before he could think better of it. “So why waste your time thinking about them?” Jeremy shrugged, still not looking away from the empty corner.

“My soulmate is...amazing,” Jeremy said. “They helped me through some hard days. They promised to always be there for me… even if… they never followed through.”

Their food came, but Rich felt too sick to eat much. He let Jeremy keep talking about his favorite video games and how excited he was to join the spring musical, even though things didn’t work out with Christine.

Rich could understand what Jeremy was saying about his soulmate. It didn’t matter what Jeremy was talking about -- he made Rich hang onto every word like it was gospel. Every breath he took made Rich feel a bit more alive, and seeing Jeremy happy and expressing himself made Rich feel a little braver.

“Rich?” Jeremy said suddenly, looking vulnerable. “Are you listening?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Rich said. “Go on.”

And Jeremy gave him that dumb little smile that had made everything so complicated in the first place.

 

…

 

Rich should have known it was all too good to last.

Every day at lunch, Jeremy would sit down at his table in the library unannounced. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they didn’t, but Jeremy was always there, always smiling, always caring. It made Rich feel disgusted with himself.

**“It’s all pity. You know that, don’t you?”**

_Jeremy said he cares about me._

**“No one cares about you. He just likes hanging around the only person in school who’s more pathetic than he is.”**

“Shut up!” Rich yelled, dropping his book. The librarian sent him an icy glare and Rich held his head in his hands. He couldn’t stay here. Not even to wait for Jeremy.

He needed a fix. He said he was going to stop, but he was too weak. He got up from the table and ran outside, finding his way to Brooke’s favorite makeout spot. Finally, some privacy. He reached into his backpack and pulled out a lukewarm can of beer, wishing he had brought something stronger.

“Don’t!”

Rich turned around and saw Jeremy standing a couple feet away, looking concerned.

“Go away, tall-ass.”

“No! Not if you’re going to drink, Rich. I can’t let you do that to yourself.” Jeremy looked on the verge of tears, and he was advancing carefully.

“Why not?” Rich asked hotly. “Why the hell not?”

“Because, Rich!” Jeremy said, reaching for the can. “I need to protect you!”

“I don’t want your help!” Rich said, feeling tears running down his cheeks as he gestured wildly with the can. “You can’t help me, okay? So, stop trying!” Rich broke down against his will, throwing the can onto the ground and watching it roll a couple feet.

**“You look so pathetic to him, Richard.”**

“Rich-”

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” Rich cried out. “I don’t need your pity.” Jeremy took a step backward, clearly shocked, hurt flashing in his eyes.

“Rich… it’s not pity. I promise it’s not pity. Maybe it was at first, but…” Rich scoffed as another wave of tears broke free. Jeremy’s tone grew desperate. “It’s not anymore, I swear! Rich, I _want_ to spend time with you. I _want_ to get to know you. And… I don’t want you to… I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“What I’m saying is you shouldn’t care!” Rich yelled. “I deserve to suffer. I deserve to be alone. Why can’t you just stay away from me? You wouldn’t want to be around me if you knew how awful I really am.” Rich’s shoulders shook with every sob. Jeremy was shaking, but he didn’t move or say anything.

“I beat you up,” Rich started. “ _I_ did. Not the SQUIP. It may have done the job sometimes, but I didn’t always fight it. I lied about who I was for so long… I used people… I said horrible things, and I meant some of them. You can’t just blame everything on the SQUIP, because that’s on me. _That’s all on me. I_ was the one who bought the SQUIP. _I_ was the one who convinced you to get one. _I_ was the one who had the goddamn shoebox full of them. And I was gonna do it. I was gonna SQUIP everyone if it wasn’t for Halloween.”

“You-” Jeremy said shakily, taking a step back. _Good. It’s working. Get the hell away from me and find someone better. Someone wonderful like you are._

“And I was the one who set the fire. No one told me to. That was me,” Rich said. Jeremy held his breath, still eyeing Rich. “I did it, and I could have hurt everyone. I did hurt everyone. And if you don’t leave me be, I’m going to hurt you too, whether I want to or not.” He looked up at Jeremy and saw him taking deep breaths.

“Rich, none of that makes you-”

“Yes, it does!” Rich said, getting riled up again. “What’s it going to take to convince you to forget about me?”

“I’m not going to forget about you,” Jeremy insisted, starting to reach towards Rich. “Why would you want me to do that? Why do you want me to stay away so badly?”

“ _Because I’m your soulmate!_ ” Rich shouted, all too aware that he was full-on sobbing. Jeremy backed up and withdrew his arm, eyes wide with shock. _Disgust and Fear. Good._ “I’m your soulmate,” Rich repeated, with a dry laugh. “That’s why I didn’t come help you when you were trapped. Because I was the one keeping you locked inside. I told you I’d never let anyone hurt you and…” Rich paused to wipe his eyes fruitlessly. “...that’s all I ever did. I hurt you over and over, even after I knew it was you. I told you about SQUIPs because I was selfish, and now you have to deal with the consequences. And I’ve been ignoring you because I was trying to make you hate me. And you should now that you know who I am so…”

Rich closed his eyes and took a step forward, standing up straight and dropping his arms next to his sides.

“Hit me. Kick me. Just like you did to that guy in the hallway. Then, once I’m black and blue, never talk to me again.” He heard Jeremy’s breaths, but he couldn’t hear him move or say anything. “Hit me!” Rich cried. “Do anything you want to me. Whatever you think I deserve."

After a second, Rich heard cautious footsteps approaching. They stopped in front of him, and Rich could sense Jeremy standing across from him, probably considering where to punch him first.

Rich felt a soft brush on his cheek. And before he could ask what was happening, a warm pair of lips on his, timid, but bold, taking and giving. Rich’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t believe what he was feeling. But what he saw was exactly what he’d felt. Jeremy was kissing him with a sort of sweet desperation.

Then it was over and Jeremy pulled away, looking very nervous.

“Wh-” Rich started.

“You said to do what I thought you deserved,” Jeremy said quickly, looking at his converse. “And that was it.”

Rich slowly brought a finger up to his lips and touched them, already yearning for the sensation of Jeremy’s affection again, even if it confused him. Even if he felt dirty receiving what he didn’t deserve. “I don’t understand.”

“You deserve to be loved,” Jeremy said softly. “Just as much as anyone does. You’ve been through so much… don’t you think you deserve a happy ending?”

“Macbeth didn’t get a happy ending,” Rich said. “Willy Loman didn’t. Gatsby didn’t.”

“Well, Gatsby never met his soulmate,” Jeremy said. “And I’m right here. So, stop worrying about what’s in the past.” Jeremy carefully took Rich’s hands in his and gave him a shy smile. “I’m here now. I’m here with you. We can’t change what happened before, but… can’t we just try and move forward?”

“You should hate me,” Rich said.

“I don’t, though. Do you hate me?”

“No. Never. I tried so hard to, but…” Rich sighed and leaned into Jeremy, resting his head on his soulmate’s shoulder. “All I did was fall in love with you.” Jeremy wrapped his arms around Rich, holding him close, and Rich felt secure for the first time in years.

“Don’t go,” Rich whispered, knowing he was being selfish. “I don’t… I don’t want to be alone.”

“I know,” Jeremy said. “I feel like I’ve always known.”

Rich couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He stood on his tiptoes and kissed Jeremy properly, and after a second, he was kissing back. It put every fantasy he’d ever had about him to shame. He ran a hand through Jeremy’s soft locks as their lips met in an explosive duet. Jeremy was a beautiful paradox. His kissing was inexperienced and sweet, but confident and bold. He was running a tongue along Rich’s lips before long. Rich happily obliged by opening his mouth and letting Jeremy get closer, closer.

Rich could no longer remember why he’d ever wanted to push Jeremy away because now, he wanted more, more, more. Jeremy moved away from Rich’s lips all too soon, and he moved to kiss the scarred skin on Rich’s left cheek. He shuddered from the contact.

“It’s you,” Jeremy said as he pulled away, grinning like an idiot.

“It’s me.”

“I’m glad,” Jeremy laughed, rubbing circles on the back of Rich’s hand with his thumb. “I’m glad that it’s you.”

…

 

“Are you really ready for this?” Jeremy asked him as they walked into lunch, hands intertwined. “I’m not trying to scare you or anything… this is just a big step.”

“I’m ready,” Rich said, beaming up at his boyfriend. “Thanks to you.” Jeremy flushed and bumped into him sightly.

“No, I’m pretty sure you did that yourself,” Jeremy said. “I think I’m more terrified than you are.”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry, cutie.”

As they approached the table -- the cool kids’ table with the golden aura -- Rich began to feel a rising static in his brain. He dropped Jeremy’s hand self-consciously as if it were a red-hot ember, but Jeremy just hesitantly took it right back.

“It’s okay,” Jeremy said.

Rich squeezed Jeremy’s hand tighter. Right. Jeremy was his soulmate. Rich’s bisexuality was a part of him. And he was done hiding. He was done feeling invisible. And the only way to truly stop feeling invisible was to do something about it. Rich walked faster.

He stood right at the end of the table, and everyone’s eyes were on him. Jake gave him a small smile. Rich looked at all the people in front of him, people he called his friends who he really didn’t know at all.

He took a deep breath, then released it. No more masks. No more SQUIP.

“Hey, everyone,” Rich said, summoning up all the courage he could. And he found it more easily than he ever thought was possible. “It’s nice to meet you all again. My name is Richard Goranski.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end! Wow, guys. It's been a ride. If you'd be so kind, I'd love any final comments telling me what you thought of this fic! Favorite scenes...criticisms...anything!
> 
> (Also I'm thinking I may do an epilogue so let me know if you want to see that!)
> 
> Again, the lovely art featured in this chapter was something i got commissioned from @reverseinversedisperse on tumblr. Go show them some love!
> 
> Thank you all for being a part of this! <3


	24. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to write more...but you guys won me over. This story has meant so much to me. Thank you all for reading. <3

Above all else, Jeremy loved the sound of Rich’s voice. Its rough undertone and dragging “s”s and the way it cracked when he was flustered. They had met through words… they were bonded through words. And hearing them out loud reminded him that what they had was real -- that Rich was there with him. And that they loved each other.

Not to say that they didn’t still write to each other. Jeremy knew it was sappy, but when Rich’s words appeared on his arm, a warm glow of nostalgia came with it. Sure, they could text, but something about using their soulmate bond made it so personal and special. Just the two of them against the world, no matter how battered their hearts were.

“Jeremy?”

Rich squeezed his hand and looked up at him with concern. Jeremy looked around to ground himself. Right, they were on a date. Their first real date. No time to be spacing out.

“Sorry, I was just thinking,” Jeremy said. “Not the Squip or anything.” Rich’s hazel eyes darkened a bit at the mention of the supercomputer, but he nodded and smiled regardless.

“Thinking?” he repeated incredulously, his expression turning playful. “About what?”

“Your ass,” Jeremy said, playing along. “Obviously.”

“Yeah, I bet you were,” Rich quipped back, looking away quickly. Jeremy smiled to himself. Rich was trying and failing to hide a rising blush. This tended to happen whenever Jeremy thought to swallow his insecurities and flirt, and it was quite amusing. Who would have thought that he could make _Rich Goranski_ of all people embarrassed? And furthermore, who thought he’d be _soulmates_ with Rich Goranski. _Rich. Goranski._

“Nah, I was really thinking about how happy I am that we found each other,” Jeremy said, tugging Rich’s arm gently so he stopped walking and they were facing each other. “I know we got off to a rocky start…”

Rich snorted.

“...okay a _very_ rocky start… I just feel so lucky, you know? Am I making sense?” Rich was no longer even trying to hide the pink that had overtaken his nose and cheeks. He groaned and covered his face with his hand, trying to suppress embarrassed giggles.

“Jesus Christ…” Rich moaned. “Yeah. I’m happy too, you nerd.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Mean.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“...shut up, tall-ass.”

“Make me.”

Rich smiled and leaned in, kissing Jeremy enthusiastically. Jeremy let out a little squeak of surprise, but recovered quickly and returned the kiss, sucking softly on Rich’s bottom lip and just savoring their contact.

“I’m really glad we’re here together,” Rich said when he pulled away. “But was bringing Michael really necessary?”

“I’m chaperoning,” Michael said, stepping up to them with cotton candy in his hands. “And you’re welcome, because you two are absolutely disgusting.”

“Chaperoning?” Jeremy asked. “You keep leaving, so you’re not really keeping an eye on us. And it’s a _carnival_. Don’t even pretend that you’re miserable. And, hello? You invited Jake.”

“Woah woah woah woah. I did _not_ invite Jake. I just happened to casually mention it at the GSA meeting and he wanted to come.”

“I thought you guys were dating,” Rich said, stealing some of Michael’s cotton candy half-heartedly.

“No, we’re just… we’ll see,” Michael said. He looked desperate for a subject change. “Shouldn’t you know that? Haven’t you been talking to Jake?”

“No,” Rich said shortly, turning away and withdrawing into himself. “I haven’t.” Jeremy sighed and reached for Rich’s hand.

“Why not?” Jeremy asked quietly, running his finger slowly back and forth across the back of Rich’s hand. “New you, new friendship, right?”

“It’s not that easy,” Rich sighed, so quiet Jeremy could only hear because he was so close. “My Squip is out, but that doesn’t mean everything I did is magically fixed. I burned down his house. I tried to ruin his reputation. And I was a shitty friend. I wouldn’t expect him to forgive all that.”

“I forgave you,” Jeremy said.

“Well, you _had_ to,” Rich said. “You’re stuck with me.”

“What?” Jeremy said, now at full volume. Rich stumbled back from him and Michael nearly dropped his cotton candy. “Do you really think that I’m here out of...obligation?” Rich didn’t say anything.

“I’m just gonna… leave you two alone…” Michael said, starting to inch away. But it turned out that it wasn’t necessary. Rich bolted away into the crowd suddenly, disappearing easily among the hundreds milling about with the advantage of his short stature.

“Shit,” Jeremy said.

“Yo, Michael!” Jake’s voice suddenly called. Jeremy stiffened. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go at all.

“Jeremy, good to see you,” Jake said as he approached, hobbling a bit on his crutches. “Where’s Rich?”

“I’m figuring that out,” Jeremy said. “Either of you have a pen?” Jake, ever prepared, produced a blue pen from his jacket pocket. Jeremy couldn’t help but notice the prominent way he’d positioned the pansexual button Michael had given him. Why, despite everything, were they all still struggling to work things out?

“Why don’t you just text him?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow. Jake smirked a bit and elbowed Michael.

“Got something against writing to soulmates, Mell?”

“All I’m saying is that it’s very inefficient,” Michael said, winking at him teasingly. Jeremy uncapped the pen tapped it nervously against his forearm.

“But seriously, Jer. Just call him,” Michael said. “Tell him I’m eating all the cotton candy and he’d better hurry those short little legs back over here.”

“Because anyone can call him,” Jeremy sighed. “And anyone can text him. But…”

“Yeah, I get that, bro,” Jake said with a small smile. “Go find him. Michael and I will do our best to save you some cotton candy.”

Jeremy nodded in gratitude and turned his attention to his arm.

 _Rich, where are you?_ he wrote. Then he started in the direction Rich had gone.

 

…

 

Rich never wrote him back, but Jeremy found him before long, hanging out in the empty house of mirrors. He wasn’t crying, and he didn’t look mad either. The look on his face was entirely numb. Jeremy approached him slowly, walking up to meet him and waiting for Rich to speak first. He was silent for several minutes, and Jeremy just reached for him and petted his hair soothingly while he waited.

“I’m sorry,” Rich choked out after a bit. “I shouldn’t have run off, I just…”

“It’s okay,” Jeremy cut him off. “This is a lot for both of us. I just… want to make sure you’re alright.” Rich was quiet for a while, taking deep, shaky breaths, but never letting any tears break free.

“If I wasn’t your soulmate…” Rich said softly. “Would you really have ever forgiven me? After everything I did to you… God, I hurt you so much Jer. So much. And you just wanted someone to love you so…” Rich paused to wipe at his eyes, to make sure they were still dry. “I’d understand… if you don’t forgive me. If you’re just making me your charity case. You make me… so happy, Jeremy. So happy. I didn’t even know I could be this happy until I met you. But if I don’t make you that happy… then what’s the point of any of it? I care about you more than I care about myself. I couldn’t give less of a shit about how I feel as long as you’re happy. And… I _don’t_ make you happy. I only hurt you and-”

“That’s enough,” Jeremy said firmly.

“I…”

“I said, that’s enough, you idiot!” Jeremy said, wrapping his arms around Rich and holding him tighter than he ever had before. “Why do you think I wanted to protect you? Why do you think I got suspended and bothered you every day in the library? I’d already forgiven you when we stepped out of the hospital. Not because I had to. Because I wanted to. And I want _you_ too, Rich.”

“I don’t deserve that.”

“No, Rich,” Jeremy said. “You _think_ you don’t deserve that. But I know you do. And I love you.”

“You shouldn’t love me,” Rich said weakly. “No one else does.”

“But they do,” Jeremy said, hugging Rich tighter still. “All your friends. If they didn’t, they wouldn’t be giving you another chance. Even Chloe smiled when you showed up at the lunch table with me that first time.”

“But Jake-”

“He loves you too,” Jeremy said. “I know he does. He’d tell you it himself if he was here.”

“Jeremy…”

“And I love you,” Jeremy finished, feeling some stray tears running down his face. “More than anyone else. Okay? I love you. _I love you._ ”

“I love you too,” Rich said after a minute.

They finally broke apart and Jeremy couldn’t help but glance around at all the mirrors surrounding them, showing refractions and reflections of the two of them, just standing together and baring their souls. In a place like that, they seemed much bigger than themselves. They seemed less alone, like they were the only two people that mattered in the entire world. Like their relationship was massive and important. It was the same way Rich made him feel whenever they were alone.

“I’m sorry for running off,” Rich said, shaking his head a bit. “I just panicked when I heard Jake was coming… I got all my other freakouts taken care of before I came here and I just wasn’t ready to shut down in front of you and Michael like that.” Jeremy nodded, lifting and hand to Rich’s cheek and stroking it smoothly. Rich shivered under his touch.

“Will you be okay if we head back out?” Jeremy asked.

“Yeah,” Rich said after a minute. “Just give me one second. Can I see your pen?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow but retrieved it out of his pant pocket and handed it over. And after a second, words appeared under _Rich, where are you?_

_Right where I need to be._

 

...

 

“Oh, you guys are back!” Michael greeted. “We were about to head to the ferris wheel, because apparently, we’re basic now.”

“What’s wrong with a ferris wheel?” Jake defended. “It’s romantic. For my bros Jeremy and Rich, you know?”

“Glad to be back on the double date,” Jeremy said, smiling cheekily at Michael. Jake and Michael turned red almost in unison and stammered through half-baked rebuttals.

“We’re not-”

“Michael and I are just-”

“-we’re really not sure-”

“-see what happens!”

“-CHAPERONING-”

“-just guys being bros, is all.”

“They’re gonna ‘see what happens’,” Rich whispered to Jeremy, scoffing. “I’ll tell you what will happen. They fuck in a week’s time. Tops.”

“Sounds great,” Rich said, smiling at Jake nervously. Seeming to catch on to Rich’s hesitance, Jake pulled his friend into a bro hug, eyes soft.

“It wouldn’t be a party without my best friend,” Jake said. Rich didn’t say anything, but as they pulled away and began walking across the carnival, Jeremy could see Rich walking taller, smiling easier.

“I can’t wait to kiss you at the top,” Jeremy said as they got in line.

“Why wait?” Rich said. Jeremy smiled as Rich pulled him in for a quick kiss. His touch was more delicate than Jeremy would have ever imagined before. As Rich carded his fingers gently through Jeremy’s soft locks, he realized that Rich was right. Being together… it made him happy. Happier than he ever thought was possible. Sure, they still had ups and downs. There were still going to be hard days. Jeremy still had bruises. Rich still had burns. But they also had each other, and that was enough.

He could hardly remember what it was like to be invisible. Because with Rich by his side…

Jeremy felt like everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I answered some questions about this fic! Check that out [here!](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/174788824273/2-9-for-written-in-the-scars-please)
> 
>  
> 
> Playlist for this fic! Listen to it [here!](https://open.spotify.com/user/meggieb417/playlist/3YqDdoJ0Y8iUQIfW2fvC8n?si=g7-QnzA8T1qGI3A1FiJM9A)
> 
> Amazing fanart by merakimoondraws [Check it out!](https://lalagirl16.tumblr.com/post/178599755888/merakimoondraws-i-started-this-months-ago-but)


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